a 


^ 


^^  t\ve  %\m\<s%\cal  ^ 


'*/, 


%/., 


'if. 


PRINCETON,    N.    J. 


Shelf.. 


'  Wl^  71/  ZJZU41cC 


Division. 
Section  . 
N^utnbei  . 


.B525-\0 


>» 


t^Jf 


7J 


THE    LOST    FOUND, 


WANDERER      WELCOMED. 


The   Lost    Found, 


AND 


THE  WANDERER   WELCOMED. 


BT 


WILLIAM  M.  'Baylor,  d.d., 

MINISTER     OF     THE     BROADWAY     TABERNACLE,    NEW    YORK. 


NEW   YORK: 
SCRIBNER,     ARMSTRONG    AND    COMPANY, 

1873. 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1872,  by 

SCRIBNER,  ARMSTRONG  &  COMPANY, 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


CO  2TTEK2  8. 


PAGH 

THE   LOST  SHEEP 3 

THE    LOST  COIN 33 

THE    PRODIGAL    SON. 

I.— The  Depaetube 59 

n. — The  Resolution 85 

m.— The  Retuen 115 

rV. — The  Eldee  Beotheb 147 


THE  LOST  SHEEP. 


«'  Then  drew  near  unto  him  all  the  publicans  and  sinners  for  to  hear 
him. 

"  And  the  Pharisees  aad  scribes  murmured,  saying,  This  man  receiveth 
sinners,  and  eateth  with  them. 

"  And  he  spake  this  parable  unto  them,  saying, 

•«  What  man  of  you,  having  an  hundred  sheep,  if  he  lose  one  of  them, 
doth  not  leave  the  ninety  and  nine  in  the  wilderness,  and  go  after  that 
which  is  lost,  until  he  find  it  ? 

"  And  when  he  hath  found  it,  he  layeth  it  on  his  shoulders,  rejoicing. 

«'And  when  he  cometh  home,  he  calleth  together  his  friends  and 
neighbors,  saying  unto  them.  Rejoice  with  me  ;  for  I  have  found  my  sheep 
which  was  lost. 

"1  say  unto  you,  that  likewise  joy  shaU  be  in  heaven  over  one  sinner 
that  repenteth,  more  than  over  ninety  and  nine  just  persons,  which  need 
no  repentance."  Luke.  xv..  1-7. 


THE   LOST   SHEEP. 


The  personal  ministry  of  Christ  had  a  mar- 
vellous attractiveness  for  the  degraded  outcasts 
of  the  Jewish  population,  and,  wherever  He 
went,  the  Pariahs  of  the  people  gathered  round 
Him,  in  Hstening  multitudes.  Everywhere  "  the 
common  people  heard  Him  gladly,"  and  among 
the  crowds  that  thronged  around  Him,  the  hat- 
ed tax-gatherers,  whose  extortions  made  them 
obnoxious  to  their  fellow-citizens;  the  openly 
immoral,  whose  vices  were  abhorred  by  their 
more  respectable  neighbors  ;  and  those  poor 
waifs  of  womanhood,  the  fallen  ones  who  traf- 
ficked in  their  own  dishonor,  were  specially 
conspicuous.  Nor  is  it  difficult  to  account  for 
this  ;  for  though  He  loathed  the  sins.  He  loved 
the  sinners,  and  stretched  out  to  them  the  hand 
of    sympathy    and    succor.     He    did   not    draw 


4  THE   LOST  FOUND. 

tliem  to  Himself  by  making  them  think  less  of 
the  guilt  which  they  had  incurred,  but  by  awak- 
ening in  them  a  sense  of  the  loss  which  they 
had  sustained,  and  by  implanting  in  them  the 
hope  of  restoration.  •  His  purity  alone  might 
have  repelled  them,  even  as  it  drove  the  demons 
shrieking  from  His  presence ;  His  love  alone 
might  have  done  no  more  than  soothe  them  by 
the  manifestation  of  his  interest  in  them  ;  but 
the  gospel  which  He  proclaimed  to  them,  and 
which  announced  that  even  the  vilest  mioht  be 
received  into  the  favor  of  the  Lord,  won  their 
interest,  and  drew  them  to  His  side.  Others 
had  denounced  their  iniquity,  but  that  only  made 
them  tremble,  as  their  fathers  did  at  the  base  of 
Sinai.  He  took  them  by  the  hand,  and,  by  His 
declaration  of  the  possibility  of  their  receiving 
forgiveness,  and  of  their  recovering  that  image  of 
God  which  they  had  lost.  He  revived  the  better 
nature  which  had  been  dead  within  them,  and 
dissipated  that  despair  which  had  made  them  re- 
gardless alike  of  God  and  man.  This  was  the 
magnetism  that  attracted  them ;  and  as  they 
hung  upon  His  hope-inspiring  words,  they  said, 
"  Never  man  spake  like  this  man." 

There  was  much,  too,  in  His  mode  of  treating 


THE  LOST  SHEEP.  5 

tliem  tliat  disposed  them  to  flock  around  Him. 
Tiie  solemn  purists  of  the  land  held  them  at  a 
distance.  They  passed  them  by,  like  the  priest 
and  Levite  in  the  parable,  "  on  the  other  side." 
They  acted  as  if  they  would  be  polluted  by  tlie 
most  cursory  intercourse  with  them.  Tliey  seemed 
to  think  that  all  their  duty  toward  them  was  dis- 
charged, if  they  simply  held  aloof  from  them. 
But  here  was  One  whose  character  was  imsul-/ 
lied,  and  whose  life  was  blameless,  who  yet  did\ 
not  think  it  beneath  Him  to  put  Himself,  for  I 
the  time,  on  a  level  with  them,  by  receiving  them  \ 
into  His  company,  and  sitting  down  with  them 
at  table ;  and  such  was  the  effect  of  His  fellow- 
ship upon  them,  that  they  were  elevated  and  en- 
nobled by  its  influence,  and  left  His  presence 
more  drawn  to  holiness  and  heaven  than  they 
had  ever  felt  before.  Others  had  driven  them 
downwards,  but  Jesus  had  lifted  them  up.  He 
made  them  feel  their  importance  as  immortal  be- 
ings. He  opened  up  to  them  the  way  to  hap- 
piness and  to  God,  and  helped  them  to  enter 
upon  it.  He  taught  them  to  respect  themselves 
by  showing  them  that  they  were  the  objects  of 
the  Divine  compassion,  and  by  telling  them  that 
He  had  come  to  seek  and  save  them  ;  and  so  it 


6  THE  LOST  FOUND, 

was  that,  wliile  the  spmtually  and  intellectually 
proud  stood  haughtily  aside  from  Him,  the  pub- 
licans and  sinners  pressed  near  to  hear  His  say- 
ings. 

But  this  very  success  among  the  despised  of 
the  people  still  further  alienated  the  self-righteous 
from  Him.  Already,  indeed,  they  had  been  re- 
pelled by  His  searching  discourses,  which  insist- 
ed so  constantly  on  inward  holiness,  as  distin- 
guished from  mere  outward  morality  or  ritualistic 
observances  ;  but  when  they  saw  the  character  of 
those  who  were  thus  clustering  round  him,  they 
sneeringly  said,  "  This  man  receiveth  sinners^  and 
eateth  with  them"  Usually,  the  sting  of  a  taunt 
lies  in  its  truth  ;  but,  in  this  instance,  what  they 
meant  in  contemptuous  scorn  was  in  reality  the 
highest  glory  of  the  Lord,  and  is  to-day  the  sum 
and  substance  of  the  gospel  which  we  preach, 
When  John  the  Baptist  sent  from  his  prison  to 
assure  himself  of  the  genuineness  of  the  Mes- 
siahship  of  Jesus,  the  Lord  replied  by  working 
many  miracles  before  the  eyes  of  his  messengers, 
and  by  telling  them  to  go  their  way  and  show 
their  master  what  they  had  seen  ;  adding,  as  the 
most  important  evidence  of  the  divinity  of  His 
mission,  and  the  greatest  miracle  of  all — '*  And  to 


THE   LOST   SHEEP.  7 

tlie  poor  the  gospel  is  preached."  Nor  was  he 
mistaken  in  this  ;  for  grander,  more  glorious,  and, 
as  an  evidence  of  Christianity,  more  convincing 
bj  far,  than  any  miracle  on  the  bodies  of  men, 
was  the  moral  miracle  which,  by  the  power  of  His 
Spirit,  was  wrought  on  the  vilest  of  those  who  be- 
lieved in  His  words,  and  which  we  may  see  daily 
repeated  before  our  eyes.  "  This  man  receiveth 
sinners."  We  thank  thee,  Scribe,  for  teaching  us 
the  words  ;  let  them  be  caught  up  and  repeated  by 
echoing  voices  in  every  city  and  in  every  land, 
until  every  child  of  Adam  has  experienced  their 
truth.  Sinners — not  righteous  men,  not  rich,  not 
noble,  not  mighty,  not  moral,  but  sinners — no 
matter  how  vile  and  guilty  they  may  have  been — 
here  are  His  words  : — "  Him  that  cometh  unto 
me  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out."  Receivetli  sinners 
— not  coldly  treateth  them,  not  holdeth  them 
aloof,  not  regardeth  them  with  freezing  dignity 
and  stately  solemnity,  but  receiveth  them  to  His 
heart,  and  spreadeth  for  them  a  table,  at  which 
He  counts  them  His  most  valued  guests.  It  was 
meant  as  a  sneer ;  and  yet,  all  unconsciously, 
these  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  in  giving  it  expres- 
sion, did  preach  the  gospel  more  simply  and  more 
truly  than  it  has  often  been  proclaimed  by  sur- 


8  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

plicecl  bishop  or  by  trained  minister.  "What  can 
vre  say  more,  or  better,  in  telhng  the  good  news 
than  this —  "  Jesus  receiveth  sinners  ?"  Guilty 
one  !  this  morning.  He  will  receive  thee  ;  for  are 
not  these  his  words,  "  Come  unto  me,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest  ?' 

This  was  not  the  only  occasion  on  which  such 
a  taunt  was  uttered.  Frequently  the  same  thing- 
was  thrown  in  the  Saviour's  teeth,  and  he  liad 
two  ways  of  meeting  it.  Sometimes  he  repelled, 
it;  by  trying  to  awaken  those  who  used  it  to  a 
sense  of  their  own  sinfulness.  Thus,  when,  at  the 
call  of  Matthew,  He  sat  down  to  the  banquet 
which  the  publican  had  prepared,  and  the  Phar- 
isees said  to  his  disciples,  "  Why  eateth  your  mas- 
ter with  publicans  and  sinners  ?"  He  made  an- 
swer, "  They  that  are  whole  need  not  a  physi- 
cian, but  they  that  are  sick ;"  and  then  sought  to 
reveal  their  own  sickness  to  them  by  saying,  "  Go 
ye  and  learn  what  that  meaneth,  I  will  have  mer- 
C}',  and  not  sacrifice."  That  is  to  say.  He  re- 
minded them  of  the  inner  and  spiritual  nature  of 
all  acceptable  service,  that  He  might  the  better 
convince  them  of  the  utter  formalism  of  their  re- 
ligious exercises.  Sometimes,  again.  He  justified 
His  conduct  by  dwelling  on  the  mercy  of  God  to 


THE   LOST   SHEEP.  9 

sinners,  and  setting  forth  the  great  object  of  His 
mission  to  mankind.  This  was  the  course  He 
followed  at  Jericho,  wlien  to  those  who  gibed 
Him  for  going  to  the  house  of  Zacchaeus,  He 
said,  "  The  Son  of  Man  is  come  to  seek  and  to 
save  that  which  was  lost."  As  if  He  had  replied, 
"  I  have  come  to  seek  the  lost ;  even,  therefore, 
if  Zacchaeus  should  be  as  bad  as  you  represent 
him  to  be,  I  am  only  fulfilliDg  the  real  purpose  of 
my  ministry  when  I  seek  to  save  him.  The  man 
who  is  most  seriously  wounded  ought  to  have  the 
surgeon's  first  attention  ;  so  those  whom  sin  has 
most  defaced  should  have  the  Saviour's  earliest 
care." 

Now,  this  latter  argument  is  that  which  Jesus 
employs  in  the  present  instance  ;  for  in  the  par- 
ables which  follow  He  illustrates  the  great  re- 
demption work  by  a  series  of  pictures,  each  of 
which  leads  up  to,  and  centres  in,  the  happiness 
of  the  Godhead  in  receiving  sinners  ;  and  He 
would  have  His  hearers  thence  infer,  that  in  work- 
ing among  the  despised  among  men,  Ho  was  truly 
representing  the  Divine  Father,  whose  eternal 
Son  he  was  ;  while,  in  ridiculing  His  efforts, 
they  were  altogether  out  of  sympathy  with  thoso 
heavenly  intelligences  among  whom  there  is  joy 


10  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

over  one  sinner  that  repenteth.  Behold  how 
out  of  evil  God  ever  bringeth  good !  We  owe 
the  parable  of  the  prodigal  son  to  the  gibes  of 
of  the  Pharisees.  They  say  that  the  sandal-wood 
gives  forth  its  richest  fragrance  to  the  axe  that 
cuts  it  ;  and  certainly  no  diviner  words  ever  is- 
sued from  the  Redeemer's  lips  than  these,  which 
came  in  answer  to  a  sneer.  The  cross  is  God's 
reply  to  men's  insulting  iniquity,  and  the  story  of 
the  prodigal  is  Christ's  only  response  to  the  scorn 
of  His  assailants. 

In  seeking  to  expound  these  parables,  as  in 
this  and  a  few  other  discourses  I  mean  to  do,  it 
is  needful  to  mark,  in  the  outset,  not  only  the 
one  great  purpose  for  which  they  were  all  related, 
but  also  the  different  phases  of  the  one  subject 
which  they  individually  present.  This  will,  of 
course,  come  out  more  prominently  as  we  enter 
more  fully  on  the  explanation  of  each.  Mean- 
while, it  may  be  enough  to  indicate  the  points 
of  agreement  and  diversity  between  them.  They 
all  agree  in  "representing  the  lost  sinner  as  the 
object  of  God's  solicitude,  and  the  repentant  sin- 
ner as  the  occasion  of  celestial  joy.  But  they^ 
differ  in  the  views  which  they  give  of  the  pro- 
cess of  the  sinner's  restoration'    and    recovery. 


THE  LOST   SHEEP..  11 

The  first  two  parables  sliow  us  the  JDivine  agen-\ 
cj  in  the  sinner's  recovery ;  the  last  lets  us  see' 
the  result  of  that  agency  in  the  sinner's  own 
activity.  The  first  two  set  before  us  God  seek- 
ing the  sinner,  together  with  the  Divine  joy  when 
the  sinner  is  found ;  the  last  gives  special  prom- 
inence to  the  sinner's  own  voluntary  return  to 
God.  The  first  two  have  their  starting-point 
in  the  heart  of  God,  and  we  see  in  them  the 
Heavenly  Father  yearning  over  his  lost  child, 
and  taking  means  to  find  him  and  bring  him 
back.  The  last  has  its  starting-point  in  the  sin- 
ner himself,  and  shows  us  his  wandering  and  his 
return,  as  well  as  his  reception.  But  there  is  no 
discrepancy  here.  Rather  the  full  trath  is  to  be 
attained  by  the  combination  of  them  all ;  and 
when  you  see  the  prodigal  coming  to  himself,  and 
hear  him  saying,  "  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  Fa- 
ther," you  are  to  understand  that  already  the  Good 
Shepherd  has  been  there  to  seek  him,  and  the 
Holy  Spirit  has  been  striving  within  him.  Such 
is  the  grandeur  of  the  work  of  redemption,  that 
no  one  parable  can  adequately  portray  it ;  and 
therefore  here,  we  have  three  given  to  us,  that 
in  the  union  of  them  all,  we  might  have  a  more 
complete  understanding  of  the  wondrous  theme. 


12  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

But  this  is  not  all.     Each  parable  brings  be- 
fore lis  a  particular  kind  of  sinful  experience.   The 
first,  in  the  wandering  sheep,  portrays  the  help- 
less sinner  ;  the  second,  in  the  lost  coin,  depicts 
tlie  man  who  has  fallen  so  low  as  to  have  lost  the 
stamp  of  his  Creator,  and  the  consciousness  of 
his  degradation  j  and  the  third,  in  the  rebellious 
son,  sets  before  us  the  sinner  who  is  knowing  and 
deliberate  in  his  iniquity.     Corresponding  to  this 
difference  in  the  description  of  the  sinner  is  that 
which  we  find  in  the  delineation,  of  his  recovery  ; 
for  in  the  first  parable  we  have  the  work  of  the 
divine   Son,   the   great  Good  Shepherd ;    in   the 
second,  that  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and  in  the  third, 
the  Eternal  Father's  eager  desire  for  the  salva- 
tion of  sinners,  and  His  great  delight  in  their  de- 
liverance.    In  none  of  the  three  is  there  any  di- 
rect reference  to  that  cross  whereon  Jesus  gave 
Himself  a  sacrifice  for  human  guilt ;  but  we  may 
not  forget,  that  He  who  uttered  them  was,  at  the 
very    moment,    straitened    for  the    accomplish- 
ment of  that  baptism  of  blood  wherewith  for  us 
he  was  baptized,  and  we  must'  read  them  all  un- 
der the  shadow  of  Calvary. 

But    now,    leaving    these  general    topics,    let 
us  look   a  M^^^^the  teaching  of  the  parable 


^w 


THE  LOST  SHEEP.  13 

of  the  lost  slieep.  It  was  spoken  by  Jesus  on  an- 
other occasion,  as  we  find  recorded  in  the  18th 
chapter  of  Matthew's  Gospel,  at  the  12th  verse. 
But  there  it  was  designed  to  illustrate  the  impor- 
tance of  even  one  soul  in  the  Heavenly  Father's 
eye.  Here  it  was  intended  to  teach  especially 
these  four  things  :  first,  God's  yearning  over  the 
sinner  ;  second,  The  helplessness  of  the  sinner  to 
return  to  God  ;  iliird,  The  means  used  by  God  for 
the  sinner's  recovery  ;  and  fourth,  The  joy  mani- 
fested by  God  over  the  sinner's  return.  Let  us 
take  up  these  in  the  order  now  advanced . 

I.  There  is,  first,  God's  yearning  over  the  sinner. 
Usually,  in  depicting  a  lost  sinner,  we  dwell  on 
the  miseries  which  he  has  brought  upon  himself. 
But  this  and  the  succeeding  parables  differ  from 
the  ordinary  representations  of  the  subject,  in 
that  they  set  before  us  the  loss  which  God  has 
sustained  in  the  wandering  and  rebellion  of  His 
children.  Here  it  is  symbolized  by  the  losing  of 
one  out  of  a  hundred  sheep  ;  in  the  next  parable, 
by  the  losing  of  one  out  of  ten  coins ;  and  in  the 
third,  by  the  losing  of  one  out  of  two  sons.  Now, 
I  know  that  it  would  be  perilous  to  press  a  mere 
human  analogy  too  far,  when  we  are  speaking 


14  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

about  (Grocl.  I  admit  also  that,  strictly  and  abso- 
lutely, God  cannot  be  said  to  lose  anything,  and 
that  He  dwelleth  evermore  in  happiness,  which 
nothing  can  either  destroy  or  becloud.  But  still 
the  figure  of  these  parables  has,  somewhere  and 
somehow,  a  real  significance.  We  cannot,  w© 
must  not,  eliminate  from  this  losing  of  the  sheep, 
of  the  money,  of  the  son,  all  reference  to  the  ef- 
fect of  the  sinner's  rebellion  upon  God.  They 
mean  that  Jehovah  has  missed  something  which 
He  had  possessed.  They  mean  that  from  His 
point  of  view  the  sinner  is  as  something  lost  is, 
to  its  former  owner.  At  first  there  was  a  human 
voice  ia  the  choral  harmony  of  creation's  an- 
them, which  rose  so  sweetly  on  the  ear  of  God; 
but  when  sin  made  its  appearance,  that  voice 
dropped  out,  and  He  marked  its  absence  with 
as  much  regret  as  Deity  can  feel.  Nay,  there 
was  a  special  reason  why  God  should  miss  hu- 
man allegiance,  for  man  alone,  of  all  His  crea- 
tures, so  far  as  we  know  at  least,  was  created 
in  God's  image.  In  him  alone  could  Jehovah 
see  the  perfect,  though  miniature,  representation 
of  Himself ;  but  when  he  sinned,  that  image 
was  defaced,  and  God  lost  the  complacency 
which   He   had   in   him  before.     Or,   to  put   it 


THE  LOST  SHEEP.  15 

■  more  simply,  when  man  fell,  God  lost  the  honor 
and  service  which  ought  to  have  been  rendered 
by  him ;    the  affection  with  which  He  ought  to 
have    been   regarded    by    him ;    and    the    glory 
which  would  have  resulted  to    Him  had  he  an- 
swered the  great  design  for  which  he   was    cre- 
ated.    Nor  let  it  be   supposed    that,  in   putting 
this  prominently  forward,  I  am  insisting  on  what 
is  of   no  importance  ;    for,   in  the  consciousness 
of  this  loss  on  the  part  of  God,  I  find  the  root 
from  which  at  length  grew  up  the  great  work  of 
redemption.     And,  depraved  though  we  ourselves 
may  be,  we  yet^  possess  so  much  of  our  prime- 
val resemblance  to  God  as  to  be  able  thorough- 
ly to  understand  this.     We  do  not  like  to  lose 
anything.     No  matter  how  trivial  or  imimportant 
the  object  may  be,   we  will  search,  and  search, 
and  search  again,  rather  than  give  it  up  as  irre- 
coverable;    and  the   more  we  value  that   which 
we  have  lost,  the  more  earnest  will  be  our  exer- 
tions to  find  it.     If  it  be  an  animal,  or  a  sum  of 
money,  we  will  go  hither  and  thither  ourselves, 
and  engage  our  neighbors  in    the    quest,   if   by 
any  means  we  may  be  successful ;  and  if  it  be  a 
son,   all  the  great   depths  of  our  hearts  will  be 
stirred  within  us,  as  we  set  out  and  track  him  in 


16  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

his  wanderings,  nor  will  we  give  over  our  efforts 
until  we  come,  either  on  himself,  or  on  his  grave. 
Now,  there  must  be  something  akin  to  all  this  in 
that  God,   whose  image   was  at  first  enstamped 
upon    us.     I    say    not,   indeed,   that   the  loss  of 
His  human  children  caused  Him  positive  unhap- 
piness ;    and  yet,    after  all,    why  need   I   be   so 
chary  ?     Do  not   the   Holy  Scriptures    speak  of 
Him  as  being  grieved  ?     Do  they  not  represent 
Him  as  soliloquizing  within  Himself  thus  :  "  How 
shall  I  give  thee  up,  Ephraim  ?     How  shall  I  de- 
liver thee,   Israel?     How  shall    I  make  thee  as 
Admah  ?     How  shall    I    set    thee   as    Zeboim  ? 
Mine  heart  is  turned  within  me  ;  my   repentings 
are    kindled    together."     Let   me   take    courage, 
then,  and  say  that,  mourning  over  the  loss  which 
He  had  sustained  in  being  deprived  of  man's  af- 
fection and  obedience,  He  yearned  in  eager  ear- 
nestness for  his   recovery.     We  can  only  speak 
of  Deity  in  human  words,  and  these  must  lose 
some  of  their  earthly  meaning  when  applied  to 
Him.     Nevertheless,  it  standeth  here  most  sure, 
that  God,  when  man  sinned,  lost  that  which  He 
yery  much  desired  to  retain  ;  and  that  the  weight 
of  this  loss  impelled  Him  to  seek  after  human 
salvation.     In  the  consciousness   of   loss,   there- 


THE  LOST  SHEEP.  17 

fore,   on  Jehovah's  part,    the  great  work  of  re- 
demption began.    "  He  so  loved  the  world,  that 
he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son."     What  is  that 
but  just  another  way   of  saying,   He  so  missed 
man's  affection  and  fellowship,  that  He  gave  His 
only   begotten  Son?     He   sought   our  salvation, 
not  only  for  our  sakes,  but  for  His  own  ;  and  thus 
the  sense  of  loss  out  of  which  sprang  the. pur- 
pose of  recovering  the  sinner  corresponds,  at  the 
one  end  of  the  chain,  with  the  rapturous- joy  that 
is  felt  at  the  other,  when  "  the  ransomed  of  the 
Lord  return,  and  come  to  Zion."     This  view  of 
the  matter  may  well  give  careless  sinners  food 
for  serious  reflection.     You  are  God's.     By  vir- 
tue   of   your   very  creaturehood   you   belong   to 
Him.  Your  hearts,  your  lives,  your  service,  ought 
all  to  be  given  to  Him  ;  but   they  are  not,  and 
this  is  no    mere    thing    of   indifference   to  Him. 
He   misses    you.     He,   on    whom    the    universe 
hangs,  and  who  well  might  be  excused  if  He  'had 
no  concern  for  you,  misses  your  love.     He  hun- 
gers for  your  affection.     He  desires  your  return 
to  Him.     Yea,  he  has  used  means  of  the  most 
costly  character  to  find  you  out,  and  to  bring  you 
back.     "Why  will  you  continue  to  disregard  Him  ? 
Why  will  you  perversely  malign  Him  as  one  who 


18  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

takes  no  interest  in  your  welfare  ?  Believe,  me, 
you  can  give  Him  no  liiglier  joy  than  you  will 
cause  by  your  return  to  Him,  wliile  your  repent- 
ance will  secure  unalloyed  happiness  to  your- 
selves. 

II.  But,  in  the  second  place,  we  have  here  set 
before  us  the  simier's  own  helplessness.  He  is  like 
a  lost  sheep.  Now,  while,  as  we  have  seen,  this 
means  that  God  has  lost  him,  we  must  not  for- 
get that,  on  the  other  side  of  it,  the  analogy  also 
bears  that  the  sinner  has  lost  himself.  There  are 
few  more  helpless  creatures  than  a  wandered 
sheep.  It  runs  hither  and  thither,  "  bleating  up 
the  moor  in  weary  dearth,"  if  perchance  it  may 
see  another  of  its  species,  or  regain  the  footsteps 
of  the  flock  ;  while  it  is  ever  liable  to  be  assailed 
by  wild  beasts,  or  to  fall  headlong  over  some  rug- 
ged precipice,  or  into  some  fearful  pit.  It  is 
within  the  bounds  of  possibility,  indeed,  that  it 
may  find  its  way  back  to  the  fold;  but  this  is 
not  probable,  and  usually  it  comes  back  only 
when  it  is  brought  back  under  the  good  shep- 
herd's care.  Now,  what  is  all*  this  but  a  picture 
of  the  sinner?  Fretting  at  its  enclosure,  and 
longing  for  the  freedom  which  he  expects  outside, 


THE  LOST   SHEEP.  19 

lie  lias  left  God's  fold.     He  lias  gone  on  and  on, 
fartlier  and  ever  farther  away  from  his  Creator  ; 
he  has  missed  the  way  to  happiness  ;  nor  can  he 
find  a  pathway  back  to  that  w4iich  he  has  left. 
More  helpless  than  the  sheep,  he  cannot  by  any 
possibility  return  miaidedly  to  God.     He  is  like 
one  groping  in  the  dark,  or  like  the  little  child 
that  has  lost  itself  in  the  busy,  bustling  streets  of 
the  crowded  city.     All  he  can  do  is  to  confess  his 
helplessness,  and  to  lift  up  his  voice  and  weep. 
But  this,  alas  !  is  usually  the  very  last  thing  he  is 
willing  to  do.     It  is,  comparatively  speaking,  an 
easy  thing  to  convince  the  sinner  of  his  guilt,  but 
it  is  a  hard  matter  to  get  him  to  own  his  help- 
lessness.    He  will  persist  in  attempting  his  own 
deliverance.     He  will  seek  to  satisfy  God's  law 
for  himself,  and  to  find  his  own  way  back  to  hap- 
piness.   The  sheep  will  run  to  the  shepherd  when 
he  appears,  and  welcome  him  as  its  helper,  look- 
ing up  in  dumb  gratitude  into  his  face.     But  the 
sinner,   in  this  respect    more    stupid    even   than 
the  sheep,  too  often  runs  from  the  Shepherd,  and 
will  have  none  of  His  assistance.     Let  there  be 
no  such  pride  and  waywardness  among  us,  my 
brethren  ;  but    recognizing  in  Jesus  the  Helper 
whom  we  need,  let  us  yield  ourselves  up  to  Him, 


20  THE  LOST  POUND. 

■willing  to  own  our  helplessness,  if  only  we  may 
be  borne  in  His  loving  arms  to  happiness  and 
heaven. 

III.     We   have   here,  in   the   third   place,  tlm 
means  used  for  the  sinner  s  recovery.      "  Doth  He 
not  leave  the  ninety  and  nine  in  the  wilderness, 
and  go  after  that  which  is  lost,  until  he  find  it  ? 
And  when  he  hath  found  it,  he  layeth  it  on  his 
shoulders,  rejoicing?"    Many  questions  rise  out  of 
these  words  which  are  more   easily   asked   than 
a-nswered.      Thus — Whom   do   these  ninety  and 
nine  represent  ?     Avhat  is  meant  by   the  leaving 
of  them,  and  going  after  that  which  is  lost  ?  and 
when  may  the  lost  be  said   to  be   truly  found  ? 
The  ninety  and  nine  are  described  (in  the  seventh 
verse)  as  just  persons  which  need  no  repentance. 
Nov7,  some  have  supposed  that  we  have  here  a 
reference  to  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  to  whose 
sneer    we    have    before    alluded.      They    Avould 
make  it  an   ironical   expression  of  Christ's  hke 
that   other — "  They  that   are  whole   need  not  a 
physician,  but  they  that  are   sick.     I  came  not  to 
call   the  righteous,  but  sinners,  to  repentance  ;" 
and  they  would  interpret  the  leaving  of  the  ninety 
and  nine,  as  a   kind   of  implied   vindication   of 


THE  LOST  SHEEP.  21 

Himself,  bj  Jesus,  for  leaving  tlie  Scribes  and 
Pharisees,  and  going  after  tlie  publicans  and  sin- 
ners. Tliis  gives  a  good  and  consistent  enough 
meaning,  and  there  are  many  reasons  why  I 
should  be  disposed  to  adopt  it ;  yet  two  thoughts 
weigh  with  me  in  inclining  me  to  prefer  another. 
First,  It  is  positively  said  here,  that  these  ninety- 
nine  need  no  repentance  ;  therefore,  it  is  implied 
that  they  have  never  sinned.  Second,  In  the 
expression,  "  Joy  shall  be  in  heaven  over  one  sin- 
ner that  repenteth  more  than  over  ninety  and 
nine  just  persons  which  need  no  repentance," 
it  is  evidently  suggested  that  there  is  some  joy 
over  the  ninety  and  nine.  But  this  cannot  be 
true  if  the  ninety  and  nine  represent  the  Scribes 
and  Pharisees,  since  it  is  impossible  to  conceive 
that  any  inhabitant  of  heaven  could  rejoice  over 
them.  Hence,  though  even  that  interpretation  is 
in^^^olved  in  many  difficulties,  I  prefer  to  regard 
the  ninety  and  nine  as  descriptive  of  the  angels 
who  have  kept  their  first  estate,  and  who  cease- 
lessly serve  God  before  His  throne.  If,  then,  this 
representation  be  correct,  the  leaving  of  the  ninety 
and  nine  will  signify  the  leaving  of  heaven  by  the 
Eternal  Son,  when  at  the  era  of  the  incarnation 
He  set  out  in  search   of  that   which   was  lost ; 


22  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

and  tlie  search  itself  will  include  everything 
which  Jesus  did  by  His  own  personal  ministry  on 
earth,  and  by  His  sacrificial  death  upon  the  cross, 
and  everything  which  He  has  done  and  is  now 
doing,  by  the  preaching  of  His  ministers,  and  by 
the  strivings  of  His  spirit  for  the  recovery  of  sin- 
ners. All  the  way  from  heaven  to  Calvary  Jesus 
came  to  seek  lost  sinners.  He  died  that  the  path 
might  be  opened  up  for  Him  to  go  farther  still  in 
search  of  them,  and  for  them  to  be  brought 
righteously  back  under  His  loving  care.  He  was 
going  after  that  which  was  lost  when  He  sat  by 
the  well  of  Sychar,  and  conversed  with  the  woman 
of  Samaria  ;  when  he  called  Matthew  in  Ins  toll- 
booth,  and  when  he  summoned  Zacchseus  from  the 
branch  of  the  sycamore-tree  whereon  he  was 
perched.  He  was  going  after  that  which  was  lost 
when  He  shed  forth  His  spirit  upon  Pentecost, 
and  inspired  His  servants  to  proclaim  His  truth 
with  power ;  and  He  is  still  going  after  that  which 
is  lost,  in  the  events  of  His  providence,  whereby 
He  rouses  the  careless  to  reflection  ;  in  the  search- 
ing words  of  His  earnest  ministers,  who  stately 
declare  His  love,  and  speak  home  to  the  hearts 
of  their  fellow-men ;  and  in  the  strivings  of  His 
spirit,  whereby,  often  when  they  can  give  no  ac- 


THE   LOST   SHEEP.  23 

count  of  tlie  matter,  men's  minds  are  strangely 
turned  in  the  direction  of  salvation.  Yea,  He  is 
going  after  that  which  is  lost  this  morning,  as, 
once  again,  through  the  exposition  of  this  parable, 
His  Love  and  earnestness,  and  tenderness,  are 
set  before  you  ;  nor  will  His  search  be  concluded 
until  the  day  when  the  angel  shall  proclaim  that 
"  Time  shall  be  no  longer."  O !  in  view  of 
this  unceasing  work  of  the  Good  Shepherd, 
may  we  not  sing,  in  the  words  of  the  old 
hymn, — 

"  Wearily  for  me  Thou  soughtest  ; 
Ou  the  cross  my  soul  Thou  boughtest  ; 
Lose  not  all  for  which  Thou  wroughtest." 

But  when,  it  may  be  asked,  is  a  sinner  found  by 
Christ  ?  The  answer  is,  When,  on  his  side,  the 
sinner  finds  Christ.  The  finding  by  Christ  of  the 
lost  sheep  is,  in  the  closing  verse  of  the  parable, 
represented  as  the  repenting  of  the  sinner.  When, 
therefore,  guilty  and  forlorn,  without  hope  of  ac- 
ceptance in  anything,  save  in  the  merits  of  his 
Saviour,  the  sinner  turns  to  God,  he  is  found  ; 
or,  borrowing  a  side-light  from  the  third  parable 
here,  when  the  prodigal  comes  to  himself,  and 
says,  "  I  will  arise,  and  go  to  my  father,"  at  that 


24  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

moment  lie  is  found  bj  Christ.  What  is  seen  in 
heaven  is  Christ  laying  His  loving  hand  upon  the 
sinner,  and  the  angels  hear  him,  saying — "  I  have 
found  that  which  was  lost ;"  but  what  is  seen  on 
earth,  is  the  sinner  laying  his  behoving  hand  on 
Christ,  and  men  hear  him  crying — "  I  have  found 
my  deliverer.  I  will  go  with  Him,  for  salvation  is 
with  Him."  But  these  are  not  two  distinct 
things — they  are  involved  the  one  in  the  other, 
so  that  you  cannot  take  the  one  from  the  other 
without  destroying  both.  How  they  are  thus 
united  we  can  no  more  tell  than  we  can  explain 
how  the  soul  resides  in  the  body  ;  but  the  fact  is 
patent.  Jesus  lays  hold  of  the  lost  soul  at  the 
very  moment  when  the  sinner  repents  ;  and  so,  if 
you  wish  Him  to  be  your  Saviour,  you  must  turn 
in  repentance  from  yourselves  to  Him,  and  give 
up  every  hope  of  salvation  save  in  Him. 

But  there  is  yet  another  aspect  of  this  finding 
which  must  in  nowise  be  lost  sight  of.  I  mean 
the  tenderness  of  the  shepherd.  There  is  no 
stroke  of  anger  inflicted  on  the  sheep,  there  is  no 
word  of  rei3roof  addressed  to  it ;  there  is  noth- 
ing but  a  soft  caress,  as,  saying  to  it  the  while, 
"  poor  thing,  how  far  you  have  wandered,  and  how 
worn  and   weary  you  are,"  he  hfts  it  upon  his 


THE  LOST   SHEEP.  25 

shoulders,  and  carries  it  to  the  fold.  So  it  is  with 
Jesus  and  the  sinner.  The  Saviour  casteth  not 
up  to  him  his  past  iniquities.  He  doth  not  chide 
nor  scold.  "  He  upbraideth  not."  He  doth  not 
wound  the  penitent's  heart  bj  taunting  reference 
to  his  former  guilt,  but  he  receive th  him  joyfally. 
He  lets  "  the  dead  past  bury  its  dead."  He  for- 
gets the  past,  and  exults  only  in  the  happiness  of 
having  recovered  that  which  was  lost.  Or,  as 
the  prophet  Isaiah  phrased  it — "  The  bruised 
reed  he  doth  not  break  ;  the  smoking  flax  he 
doth  not  quench."  You  need  not  be  afraid  of 
Him,  O  sinner !  He  will  receive  you  with  de- 
light, and  treat  you  with  the  utmost  gentleness. 

IV.  But  I  cannot  conclude  without  referring, 
even  though  it  must  be  now  in  the  briefest  terms, 
to  the  joy  manifested  by  God  over  the  sinner  s 
return.  "  And  when  he  cometh  home,  he  calleth 
together  his  friends  and  neighbors,  saying  unto 
them.  Rejoice  with  me  ;  for  I  have  found  my 
sheep  which  was  lost.  I  say  unto  you,  that  like- 
wise joy  shall  be  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth,  more  than  over  ninety  and  nine  just 
persons  which  need  no  repentance."  The  home- 
coming here  can  hardly   be  identical  with   the 


26  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

finding  of  the  lost  one.     It  must  rather,  I  think, 
be  understood  of  the   introduction   of  the  saved 
one  into  heaven,  bj  Jesus,  at  the  last.     Yet  the 
joy  over  him  is  not  delayed  till  then,  though  at 
that  moment  it  becomes  higher  than  before.     Let 
me  illustrate.     You  have  lost  your  child,  and  one 
of  the  most  trusted  members  of  your  family  has 
set  out  in  search  of  her.     He  is  long  away,  and 
weary  days  and  weeks  you  wait  for   news.      At 
length,  however,  there  comes  from  the  great  city 
or  the  far  off  continent  a  telegram  from  the  seeker 
saying  that  he  has  found  his  sister,  and  that  he 
is  making  arrangements  for  bringing  her  home  as 
soon  as  possible.     Of  course,  the  mere  receipt  of 
his  message  gives  you  joy  ;  but  when,  at  length, 
your  loved  one  is  brought  home,  that  joy  is  in- 
tensified by  the    consciousness   that  sh6  is  safe 
again  in  your  embrace.    Now,  your  gladness  at  the 
receipt  of  the  telegram  corresponds  to  the  joy  in 
heaven  over  the  sinner's  repentance,  while  your 
higher  joy  at  the  home-coming  of  your  child  is 
symbolical  of  the  gladness  which  will  be  caused 
by  the  entrance  into  heaven  of    each    new    ran- 
somed spirit.     Nor  need  we  wonder  at  this  joy. 
It  is  over  a  successful  enterprise.     It  is  over  the 
deliverance    of   another    soul   from    ruin.     It   ia 


THE  LOST   SHEEP.  27 

oyer  anotlier  added  to  tlie  heavenly  inhabitants. 
It  is  over  another  trophy  of  the  Bedeemer's 
power  to  save.  It  is  over  a  fresh  manifestation 
of  the  manifold  wisdom  of  God. 

But  why  should  there  be  more  joy  over  the 
repenting  sinner  than  over  the  unfallen  angels  ? 
Because  there  is  greater  delight  in  the  recovery 
of  that  which  has  been  in  danger,  than  in  the 
possession  of  that  which  has  never  been  imper- 
illed. The  mother  knows  this,  as  she  looks 
with  keenest  interest  on  the  child  that  has  been 
drawn,  like  another  Moses,  from  out  the  very 
river  of  death.  The  greater  the  peril  we  have 
encountered,  the  deeper  the  thrill  of  joy  when 
we  are  brought  safely  through  it. 

There  is  much  to  interest  in  the  new-built  ship. 
As  the  crowds  gather  round  to  see  her  launched, 
they  hold  their  breaths  awhile,  until  she  slips 
in  safety  down  into  the  element  whereon  she 
is  henceforth  to  ride,  and  then  they  rend  the 
air  with  deafening  cheers.  That  is  joy — a  true 
and  real  joy. 

But  suppose  a  steamship  that  has  left  the  port 
of  Liverpool  to  cross  the  Atlantic,  has  not'  been 
heard  of  for  many  days  after  the  date  of  her 
expected  arrival  here.     Twenty-five  or  thirty- five 


28  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

days   liave  gone,   and  still  tliere  are  no  tidings. 
Underwriters  refuse    to  take  another  risk   upon 
her.     She  is  given  up  for  lost,  and  the  relatives 
of    those    who    were    on  board  go  mourning   as 
for  the  dead.     As  a  forlorn  hope,  a  government 
steamer  is  sent  out  to  ciniise  about,  if  haply  she 
may  find  the  missing  ship,  and  at  length,  when 
all    expectation    of    seeing   her    again   had  been 
abandoned,  the  news  is  told  throughout  the  city 
that  she  has  been  telegraphed  off  Sandy  Hook, 
and  is  coming  up   the    Narrows    in   tow   of   the 
vessel  which  had  gone   to    seek    her.     How  ea- 
gerly   would    thronging    multitudes    crowd    the 
wharves  to  see  her  as  she  came  in  !     How  tears 
would  mingle  with  their  very  cheers,  and  the  joy 
would  radiate  out  over  all  the  land,  calling  forth 
gratitude  from  every  heart.     That  too  would  be 
gladness,  but  oh  how  much  deeper,  more  thrilling, 
more  intense  than  that  which  was  over  the  vessel 
newly  launched.     Let  the  illustration  dimly  sha- 
dow forth  to    you    the    greater    joy    that    is   in 
heaven  over  a  saved  sinner,  than  over  the  nine- 
ty and  nine  who  have  never  been  imperilled. 

Such  a  joy,  O  sinner,  you  may  occasion  there. 
Repent,  therefore,  even  now,  and  as  the  news  is 
told  on  high,  a  thrill  of  gladness  will  pour  along 


THE   LOST   SHEEP.  29 

the  ranks  of  the  redeemed.  The  angeUc  hosts 
will  share  in  the  delight,  and  God  Himself  will 
own  the  rapture  of  the  moment  as  he  says, 
"  Eejoice  with  me,  for  this  my  son  was  dead  and 
is  ahve  again  ;  he  was  lost  and  is  found." 


THE    LOST    COIN. 


"  Either  what  woman  having  ten  pieces  of  silver,  if  she  lose  one  piece, 
doth  not  hght  a  Ciiudle,  and  sweep  the  house,  and  seek  diligently  till  she 
find  it  ? 

"  And  when  she  hath  found  it,  she  calleth  her  friends  and  her  neighbors 
together,  saying,  Rejoice  with  me  ;  for  I  have  luuud  the  piece  which  I  had 
lost. 

"  Likewise,  I  say  unto  you,  there  is  joy  in  the  presence  of  the  angels  of 
God  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth." 

LUKJE,  XV.,  8-10. 


THE  LOST  com. 


The  illustrations  of  some  teachers,  drawn  as 
they  are  from  the  most  recondite  walks  of  science, 
need  more  explanation  than  the  truths  which  they 
are  intended  to  elucidate.  But  it  was  not  so  with 
those  employed  by  Jesus.  With  a  true  poet's  eye, 
He  saw  the  beauty  and  spiritual  significance  of 
the  commonest  things  ;  and  so  the  casual  incidents 
of  daily  life,  the  ordinary  objects  of  familiar  ob- 
servation, as  well  as  the  habitual  occupations  of 
the  household  and  the  farm,  were  introduced  by 
Him  into  His  discourses  in  such  a  way  as  to  cap- 
tivate the  attention,  instruct  the  intellects,  and 
move  the  hearts  of  His  hearers.  Hence,  over 
and  above  the  spiritual  truths  which  they  were 
designed  to  expound,  we  have  in  many  of  His 
parables  exact  delineations  of  actual  scenes  in 
Eastern  hfe ;  while  in  that  w'hich  we  have  just 


34  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

read  we  have  a  most  realistic  description  of  just 
SLicli  an  occurrence  as  might  have  happened  last 
week  in  any  of  our  own  homes.  Nothing  that  I 
could  say  could  bring  either  this  woman  or  her 
work  more  vividly  before  you  ;  and  any  attempt 
to  paraphrase  the  language  in  which  they  are 
here  described  would  only  end  in  a  weak  and 
watery  dilution  of  the  original  production.  Leav- 
ing it,  therefore,  to  speak  for  itself,  let  us  proceed 
to  its  interpretation. 

Like  that  which  goes  before  it,  and  with  which 
it  is  so  closely  connected,  this  parable  was  pri- 
marily intended  to  illustrate  the  fact,  that  there 
is  joy  in  heaven  over  a  repenting  sinner,  and  so 
to  reprove  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  for  the  scorn 
which  they  meant  to  express  when  they  said  of 
Jesus,  "  This  man  receiveth  sinners,  and  eateth 
with  them."  It  describes  a  loss,  a  search,  a 
recovery,  and  a  joy  consequent  thereon ;  and  in 
all  these  respects  it  is  only  a  reproduction  of 
the  story  of  the  bringing  home  of  the  lost  sheep. 
But  there  are  some  things  suggested  here  which 
did  not  come  out  in  our  treatment  of  the  former 
parable,  and  to  these  we  shall  now  restrict  our- 
selves.    They  centre  in  these  three  things  :  the 


THE  LOST   COIN.  35 

thing  lost,  the  means  used  for  its  recovery,  and 
the  kind  of  joy  consequent  on  its  being  found, 

I.  Look  at  the  thing  lost,  and  you  \\'ill  find  sev- 
eral points  of  importance  thereby  suggested. 

It  ivas  a  coin.  That  is  to  say,  it  was  not  simply 
a  piece  of  precious  metal,  but  that  metal  moulded 
and  minted  into  money,  bearing  on  it  the  king's 
image  and  superscription,  and  witnessing  to  his 
authority  wherever  it  circulated.  You  remember 
how,  when  his  enemies,  seeking  to  entangle  Jesus, 
asked  whether  it  were  lawful  to  give  tribute  to 
Csesar  or  no,  He  requested  to  see  a  coin  ;  and 
when  one  had  been  produced.  He  said,  Whose  is 
this  image  and  superscription  ?  They  repHed, 
Caesar's.  Whereupon  He  said,  Render  unto  Csesar 
the  things  which  are  Caesar's,  and  to  God  the 
things  which  are  God's.  Now,  reading  this  para- 
ble in  connection  with  that  narrative,  we  think  of 
this  coin  as  stamped  with  the  king's  image,  and 
designed  not  only  for  a  medium  of  exchange,  but 
also  for  a  testimony  to  the  royalty  and  right  of 
him  whose  likeness  was  impressed  upon  it.  What 
a  beautiful  thing  is  a  new  piece  of  money  !  How 
sharply  cut  are  the  letters  which  are  imprinted  on 
it !  how  finely  relieved  the  likeness  of  the  monarch 


36  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

and  how  clear  and  glittering  its  polislied  surface  ! 
Can  we  fail  to  see  in  it  a  type  of  the  human  soul, 
when  first  it  came,  new-minted,  from  the  Creator  s 
hand  ?  It  had  enstamped  upon  it  His  image  in 
knowledge,  righteousness,  and  hohness,  and  was 
designed  by  Him  to  be  a  willing  witness-bearer  to 
the  rightfulness  of  His  authority  and  the  legiti- 
macy of  His  throne.  He  made  man  in  His  own 
image,  after  His  own  likeness  ;  and  so  it  is  not 
by  any  means  a  stretching  of  the  figure  here  to 
see  in  this  piece  of  money,  as  it  was  at  first,  a  re- 
presentation of  the  soul's  original  dignity. 

But  the  coin  loas  lost,  and  this  suggests  that  in 
sinful  man  the  image  of  his  Maker  has  gone  out  of 
sight,  and  the  great  purpose  of  his  being  has 
been  frustrated.  For  any  good  which  the  piece 
o.f  money,  so  long  as  it  was  lost,  did  to  its  owner, 
or  for  any  testimony  which  it  gave  to  the  authori- 
ty of  him  whose  image  it  bore,  it  might  as  well 
have  been  non-existent.  And,  similarly,  the  sin- 
ner does  no  good  in  the  world  ;  he  gives  no  glory 
to  God ;  he  is  of  no  service  to  God,  so  far,  at 
least,  as  the  promotion  of  His  honor,  and  the  ac- 
knowledgment of  His  authority,  are  concerned. 
Instead  of  obeying  God,  he  positively  dishonors 
Him  ;  and  in  those  parts  of  his  nature  on  which, 


THE  LOST  COIN.  87 

more  especially,  God's  image  was  impressed,  lie  is 
emphatically  lost  to  God.  His  intellect  does  not 
like  to  retain  God  in  its  knowledge  ;  his  heart  has 
estranged  its  love  from  God ;  and  his  life  is  de- 
voted to  another  lord  than  his  Creator.  He  is 
lost. 

Yet  he  is  not  absolutely  worthless.  The  coin 
though  lost  J  has  still  a  value.  If  it  can  be  re- 
covered, it  will  be  worth  as  much  as  ever.  It 
may  be  blackened  with  rust,  or  soiled  with  mud 
or  covered  over  with  dust,  but  it  is  still  silver — 
nay,  it  is  still  minted  silver,  with  traces  of  the 
superscription  and  the  image  that  gave  it  cur- 
rency. Even  so  the  human  soul  is  valuable 
though  lost.  It  has  in  it  the  silver  of  immortality  ; 
and,  depraved  though  it  be,  its  intellectual  powers, 
its  moral  freedom,  its  soaring  ambition,  and  its 
upbraiding  conscience,  tell  not  only  of  its  former 
grandeur,  but  also  of  its  present  importance. 
Even  as  he  is,  man  is  the  most  valuable  beincc 
in  the  world.  There  is  nothing  equal  to  him, 
nothing  almost  which  we  can  place  second  after 
him.  There  is  a  wide,  yawning,  impassable  gulf 
between  him  and  the  highest  of  the  lower  an- 
imals. He  has  a  dignity  to  which  they  can  lay 
no  claim.     He  has  a  character  which  is  unique 


38  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

and  peculiar  to  himself.  In  spite  of  "  theories 
of  development,"  and  recent  perverse  efforts  on 
tlie  part  of  some  to  claim  kindred  with  the  ape, 
there  is  in  every  human  being  a  moral  conscious- 
ness that  marks  him  man,  and  not  brute,  to- 
gether with  such  feelings  after  the  future  life 
as  stamp  him  immortal;  and  this  is  the  sil- 
ver of  the  coin  that  once  bore  the  distinct 
and   well-defined    lineaments    of  Jehovah's   im- 


age. 


But  yet,  again,  this  coin  tvas  lost  in  the  house. 
The  woman  did  not  let  it  fall  as  she  was  crossing 
the  wild  and  trackless  moor,  neither  did  she  drop 
it  into  the  unfathomed  depths  of  ocean.  Had 
she  done  so,  she  would  never  have  thought  of 
seeking  for  it  ;  she  would  have  given  it  up  as 
irrecoverable.  But,  knowing  that  it  fell  from  her 
in  the  house,  and,  therefore,  that  it  must  have 
rolled  away  somewhere  within  its  walls,  she  set 
about  a  vigorous  search,  sure  that  it  could  be 
found.  Now,  this  points  to  the  fact  that  the  soul 
of  the  sinner  is  recoverable.  It  is  capable  of  be- 
ing restored  to  its  original  dignity  and  honor.  It 
has  in  it  still,  potentialities  as  great  and  glorious 
as  those  which  ever  belonged  to  it.  There  are 
many  things  which  cannot  be  renewed.     No  hu- 


THE  LOST  COIN.  39 

man  alcliemy  can  bleach  into  its  original  wliite- 
ness  the  blackened  snow  which  has  been  trodden 
into  miry  slush  upon  the  city  streets  ;  no   artistic 
ingenuity  can  replace  upon  the  peach   the  downy 
softness  of  its   skin  when  you  have  rubbed  it  off 
upon  the  ragged  wall ;  no  manufacturing  skill  can 
restore  to  the  violet  the  velvet  softness  of  its  leaf 
after  it  has  been  once  crumpled  up  into   many 
folds  ;  but  the  soul  of  man,  even  in  its  most  be- 
sotted and  depraved  condition,  is  capable  of  be- 
ing renewed,  and  may  yet  become  a  pure   and 
holy  denizen  of  the  heavenly  home.     For  "  Who 
are  these  in  white  robes  ?  and  whence  came  they  ? 
They  have  washed  their  robes,  and  made  them 
white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  ;"  they  are  souls 
renewed  by  the  power  of  God's  Spirit  through 
the  work  of  His  Son.     This  lost  coin,  then,  has 
a  past  history  behind  it,  and  a  future  capability 
before  it.     Its  past  history  bids  us  despise  no  fel- 
low-man, since,  no  matter  v/hat  may  be  the  color 
of  his  skin,  or  the  complexion  of  his  character, 
there   are  yet    traces    of   his    old    dignity    upon 
him,  letters  of  tlie  superscription  that  once  told 
whose  image  was  impressed  upon  him.     Its   fu- 
ture capability  bids  us  despair  of  no  individual 
sinner ;  for  though  he  be  lost  to  all  that  is  no- 


40  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

ble,  and  lovely,  and  holy,  and  divine,  tliere  is  a 
possibility  of  his  recovery.  The  coin  has  not 
fallen  into  the  dark  inaccessible  mountain  ravine, 
nor  into  the  depths  of  the  uufathomed  sea,  but  it 
has  gone  amissiug  in  the  house,  and  so  it  may 
be  found.  The  lost  sinner  may  be  recovered. 
Oo,  then,  ye  whom  Christ  has  found,  and  seek 
him  ;  nor  count  any  labor  too  great,  or  any  sac- 
rifice too  costly,  if  only  you  may  be  able  to  add 
another  gem  to  the  Eedeemer's  crown. 

II.  This  brings  me  to  the  consideration  of  the 
search,  wherein  we  have  also  some  things  sug- 
gested which  are  peculiar  to  this  parable.  East- 
ern houses  are  constructed  in  such  a  way  as  to 
keep  out  the  light  and  heat  of  the  sun  as  much 
as  possible.  They  have  few  windows,  and  even 
the  few  which  they  have  are  shaded  with  such 
lattice-work  as  tends  to  exclude,  rather  than  ad- 
mit, the  sunbeam.  Hence  the  rooms  are  gener- 
ally dark ;  and  so,  even  if  the  coin  were  lost  at 
noonday,  the  light  of  a  candle  would  be  re- 
quired to  seek  for  it. 

Nor  was  there,  in  Eastern  dv/ellings,  the  same 
scrupulous  cleanliness  that  we  love  to  see  in 
many  homes  among  ourselves.     The  floors  were 


THE  LOST  COIN.  41 

often  covered  with  ruslies,  which,  being  changed 
only  at  rare  intervals,  collected  a  vast  amount  of 
dust  and  filth,  among  which  a  piece  of  money 
might  be  most  readily  lost.  Hence  the  lighting 
of  a  candle  and  the  sweeping  of  the  house  were 
the  most  natural  things  to  be  done  in  such  a 
case. 

But  whom  does  this  woman  represent  ?  and 
what,  spiritually,  are  we  to  understand  by  the 
lighting  of  a  candle  and  the  sweeping  of  the 
house?  The  woman,  in  my  judgment,  symbol- 
izes the  Holy  Spirit.  Mr.  Arnot,  indeed,  in  his 
valuable  work  upon  the  Parables,  says  that  this 
view  is  untenable,  alleging  that,  since  the  shep- 
herd who  lost  the  sheep  re]3resents  the  Lord  Je- 
sus Christ,  the  woman  who  lost  the  coin  must 
represent  Him  too.  But  if  this  reasoning  be 
worth  anj'thing,  we  must  carry  it  further  still, 
and  affirm  that  the  father  who  lost  the  son  in 
the  next  parable  represents  the  Lord  Jesus. 
This,  however,  would  be  to  contradict  the  uni- 
form tenor  of  the  interpretation  of  that  match- 
less story  in  all  ages  ;  for  every  reader  of  it, 
not  to  say  every  writer  on  it,  understands  the 
earthly  parent  to  typify  and  illustrate  our  Fa- 
ther  who    is    in    heaven.     If,   therefore,   in   the 


42  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

third  parable,  the  loser  is  God  the  Father,  and 
not  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  we  see  no  inconsis- 
tency in  maintaining  that  the  woman  here  must 
be  understood  as  representing  the  Holy  Spirit. 
Nay,  rather,  there  is  to  our  thinking  a  beauty 
and  completeness  in  this  interpretation  that  all 
others  lose.  That  which  was  lost,  whether  we 
call  it  sheep,  or  coin,  or  son,  was  lost  by  the 
Godhead,  and  in  these  three  parables  we  have 
brought  before  us  a  part,  at  least,  of  the  work 
and  office  of  each  of  the  three  Persons  in  the 
great  plan  of  redemption.  We  took  the  leaving 
of  the  ninety-nine  sheep  in  the  wilderness,  and 
the  going  after  that  which  was  lost,  to  signify 
the  incarnation  of  Christ  and  all  to  which  it 
led ;  we  shall  take  the  prodigal's  reception  by 
his  father  to  illustrate  God's  manner  of  welcom- 
ing a  returning  sinner  ;  and  so,  naturally,  we  un- 
derstand the  woman  here  to  represent  the  Holy 
Spirit ;  and  we  look  upon  the  means  which  she 
employed  in  her  search  for  the  lost  coin  as  de- 
noting the  efforts  made  by  the  Holy  Spirit  for 
the  recovery  of  a  lost  soul. 

Now  let  us  see  what  these  were.  She  light- 
ed a  candle,  and  swept  the  house,  and  searched 
diligently.     The  light  most  evidently   represents 


THE  LOST   COIN.  "  43 

the  truth ;  but  what  are  we  to  make  of  the 
sweeping  ?  Some  would  take  it  to  ilkistrate  the 
purifying  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the  heart. 
But  that  view  cannot  be  maintained,  since  the 
purifying  of  the  soul  is  not  a  work  in  order  to, 
but  rather  subsequent  upon,  its  first  recovery.  I 
take  it  rather,  therefore,  to  represent  that  dis- 
turbance of  settled  opinions  and  practices — that 
turning  of  the  soul,  as  it  were,  upside  down — 
which  is  frequently  seen  as  a  forerunner  of  con- 
version ;  that  confusion  and  disorder  occasioned 
by  some  providential  dealing  with  the  man,  such 
as  personal  illness,  or  business  difficulties,  or 
family  bereavement,  or  the  like,  and  which  fre- 
quently issues  in  the  coming  of  the  soul  to 
God ;  for  here  also  chaos  often  precedes  crea- 
tion. Truth  introduced  into  the  heart,  and  pro- 
vidential disturbances  and  unsettlements  in  order 
to  its  introduction — these  are  the  things  sym- 
bolized by  the  lighting  of  the  candle  and  the 
sweeping  of  the  house. 

The  truth  which  the  Holy  Spirit  employs  for 
the  purpose  of  conversion  is  the  Word  of  God, 
all  of  which  has  been  given  to  men  by  His  own 
inspiration  ;  and  the  special  portion  of  that  Word 
which  He  uses  for  His  saving  work  is  the.  won- 


44  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

drous  story  of  the  cross.  "  The  truth  as  it  is  in 
Jesus  " — the  fact  that  "  God  so  loved  the  world 
that  he  gave  his  onlj-begotten  Son,  that  whoso- 
ever believeth  in  Him  should  not  perish,  but 
have  everlasting  life" — the  faithful  saying,  that 
*'  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sin^ 
ners ;" — this  is  the  light  which  He  employs. 
No  new  revelations  does  He  now  bestow.  He 
uses  still  this  old  gospel — the  good  news  of  sal- 
vation through  Him  who  died  for  our  offences, 
and  rose  again  for  our  justification.  In  one 
word,  the  truths  which  centre  in  the  cross  of 
Calvary,  are  those  which  the  Spirit  employs  in 
the  conversion  of  men.  It  was  so  on  the  day  of 
Pentecost ;  it  has  been  so  in  every  period  of 
Itrue  spiritual  revival ;  it  has  been  so  in  every  in- 
dividual conversion.  They  say  that  in  some  of 
our  large  millinery  establishments  many  needles 
xare  lost  in  the  course  of  the  day  ;  a,nd  that  in 
peeking  to  recover  them,  instead  of  going  down 
/upon  the  carpet  and  wearifully  picking  each  one 
'up,  a  young  woman  goes  round  at  night,  holding 
a  magnet  near  the  floor,  attracting  thereby  every 
minutest  particle  of  steel,  and  so  recovering  all. 
So,  in  seeking  to  regain  lost  souls,  the  Holy 
Spuit  goes  through  the  world  employiug  the  mag- 


THE  LOST  COIN.  45 

net  of  the  cross ;  everywhere,  He  seeks  to  draw 
men  to  Himself  bj  the  attraction  of  its  love, 
and  constiains  them  to  live  by  the  faith  of  Him 
who  loved  them  and  gave  Himself  for  them. 

But  not  all  at  once  do  men  attend  to,  and  be- 
lieve, this  truth  of  the  gospel.  The  magnet  will 
operate  wherever  there  are  no  neutralizing  ele- 
ments near  ;  but  Avhile  the  soul  is  sunk  in  dej^ra- 
vity,  or  engaged  in  worldly  pursuits,  or  absorbed 
in  earthly  pleasures,  it  feels  not  the  charm  of  the 
Redeemer's  love.  Hence  means  must  be  used  to 
destroy  the  counter-attractions  of  the  world, 
which  keep  men  from  God.  Or,  taking  the  figure 
of  my  text,  if  the  light  of  the  candle  fall  immedi- 
ately upon  the  coin,  the  seeker  will  at  once  pick 
it  up  ;  but  if  the  piece  of  money  have  dropped  on 
a  rush-covered  floor,  and  lie  concealed  beneath 
the  straw  and  the  debris  of  Aveeks,  these  must  be 
removed  before  the  rays  of  the  candle  can  reveal 
the  coin.  That  is  to  say,  in  plainer  language, 
men  do  not  usually  attend  to  the  truth  at  once. 
They  are  pre-occupied  with  business ;  they  are 
engrossed  in  other  things,  and  the  Bible  remains 
beside  them  unread  ;  the  good  news  of  the  gos- 
pel are  uncared-for  and  unbelieved.  But  then 
comes  the  sweeping  of  the  house.     There  are  pro- 


46  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

vidential  disturbances  in  business ;  or  tbere  are 
family  bereavements  ;  or  there  is  personal  sick- 
ness ;  or  there  is  the  awakening  of.  conscience  to 
a  sense  of  guilt,  by  the  hearing  of  some  solemn 
discourse,  or,  as  the  result  of  some  other  of  the 
manifold  expedients  which  God  the  Holy  Spirit 
can  employ,  there  is  a  general  upturning  of  the 
soul,  like  the  confusion  that  is  created  in  the  home 
by  the  annual  house-cleaning ;  and  just  as,  at 
these  yearly  lustrations,  a  great  many  things, 
which  had  been  neglected  for  a  long  while,  come 
forth  into  prominence,  and  compel  you  to  settle 
w^hat  you  will  do  with  them  ;  so,  in  the  soul's  dis- 
turbance, the  long-buried  questions  about  sin  and 
salvation  come  up,  and  the  man  begins  to  cry, 
What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?  Then  as  some 
Evangelist  by  his  side  exclaims,  "  Believe  in  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  he  saved,'^  he 
turns  in  faith  to  Jesus  ;  and  that  moment,  the 
candle's  beams  falling  upon  the  piece  which  was 
lost,  the  Holy  Spirit  finds  and  rejoices  over  the 
recovered  soul. 

You  see  then,  the  meaning  of  this  seeking  and 
sweeping  :  every  time  you  are  brought  face  to 
face  with  trial ;  every  providential  unsettlement 
that  comes  upon  you  ;  or,  to  use  Jeremiah's  ex- 


THE  LOST  COIN.  47 

pression,  every  "  emptying  out  from  vessel  to  ves- 
sel "  to  which  you  are  subjected,  is  a  new  sweep- 
ing of  the  house  by  the  Holy  Spirit  seeking  for 
the  recovery  of  your  soul.  Has  He  sought  you 
yet  in  vain  ?  Oh,  let  him  seek  so  no  longer  ;  but 
through  this  discourse,  describing  to  you  your  in- 
dividual history  and  circumstances,  and  quicken- 
ing anew  your  conscience,  let  Him  find  you  now, 
as  with  devout  repentance  you  exclaim,  "  Lord,  I 
beheve  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief !" 

III.  We  come  now,  in  the  third  place,  to  look 
at  the  joy  over  the  recovered  coin  ;  and  here,  as 
before,  we  shall  restrict  ourselves  to  that  which  is 
peculiar  to  this  parable.  In  the  story  of  the  lost 
sheep,  while  the  social  character  of  the  joy  is  cer- 
tainly referred  to,  the  specialty  in  the  gladness  of 
the  shepherd  over  its  finding  lay  in  the  fact,  to 
which  prominence  is  given  in  the  appended  note 
of  interpretation,  that  it  was  greater  than  over 
the  ninety  and  nine  which  had  never  strayed. 
Here,  however,  the  peculiarity  is  in  the  sociality 
of  the  joy.  The  woman,  when  she  had  found 
ber  money, "  called  together  her  friends  and  neigh- 
bors, saying.  Rejoice  with  me ;  for  I  have  found 
the  piece  which  I  had  lost."     This  is  peculiarly 


48  THE  LOST  POUND. 

true  to  Eastern  life.  Even  to  this  day,  as  I  have 
been  informed  hj  one  who  is  well  acquainted 
with  the  domestic  habits  of  the  people  of  Pales- 
tine, the  jewels  of  a  Syrian  woman  consist  for 
the  most  part  of  pieces  of  money.  They  are  her 
own  exclusive  property,  which  her  husband  may  not 
claim,  and  having  descended  to  her  as  heirlooms 
from  her  mother,  they  are  handed  down  by  her  to 
her  daughters.  They  are  commonly  worn  tied  in 
the  hair,  the  larger  pieces  generally  hanging  from 
the  ends  of  the  braids.  Thus  one  falling  out  of 
the  hair,  might  be  very  readily  lost ;  while  as  it 
formed  a  part  of  the  dowry  of  the  woman,  in 
which  all  her  descendants  had  an  interest  as  well 
as  she,  we  can  easily  see  how  its  loss  and  re- 
covery would  be  almost  equally  affecting  to  them 
all.  It  was  quite  natural,  therefore,  for  an  Eastern 
woman  to  call  for  her  female  friends  to  rejoice 
with  her  over  the  finding  of  one  of  her  .treasured 
heirlooms.  But  gladness  everywhere  is  diffusive. 
We  cannot  have  the  highest  kind  of  joy  if  we  must 
keep  it  to  ourselves.  There  are  certain  sorrows 
which  must  find  vent  in  tears,  else  death  will  ensue 
to  the  individual ;  and  in  this  connection  every  one 
remembers  the  words  in  Tennyson's  fine  song, 
"  She  must  weep,  or  she  will  die."     But  there  is 


THE  LOST  COIN.  49 

the  same  thing  at  the  other  extremity.  There 
are  joys  which,  if  we  may  not  utter  them,  cease 
to  }oe  joys,  and  which,  if  we  cannot  share  them 
with  others,  will  seriously  injure  ourselves.  The 
pent-up  emotion  will  choke  us  ;  but  the  utterance 
of  it  to  others,  and  the  making  of  them  par- 
takers of  our  gladness,  renders  it  safe  for  us,  and 
in  the  end  not  only  makes  them  happier,  but 
makes  our  own  hearts  more  joyful.  Every  reader 
of  ancient  history  remembers  the  Heureka  of 
Archimedes ;  and  each  individual  can  tell  of 
times  in  his  own  experience  when,  eager  for  an 
opportunity  to  utter  his  gladness,  he  has  gone 
long  miles  to  make  it  known  to  those,  who,  he 
knew,  would  be  sure  to  rejoice  with  him. 

But,  in  this  respect,  man  is  but  the  far-off 
image  of  God.  His  joy  also,  if  I  may  dare  to  use 
the  words,  needs  society  to  make  it  complete  j 
and  the  fact  that  there  are  those  beside  Him  to 
whom  He  can  make  known  the  story  of  each  re- 
covered soul,  redoubles  His  own  gladness,  and  dif- 
fuses among  them  His  own  divine  delight.  We 
know  not,  indeed,  with  certainty,  who  these  are 
in  heaven,  who  are  here  symbolized  by  the  friends 
and  neighbors  of  the  woman — whether  they  be 
the  unf alien   angels,  or   pure   beings,  summoned 


50  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

from  other  worlds,  that  they  may  hear  the  mar- 
vellous history  which  centres  in  this  planet, 
earth ;  but,  whoever  they  may  be,  they  enter  into 
the  feelings  of  the  Most  High,  and  the  utterance 
of  their  congratulations  is  the  occasion  of  the 
highest  happiness  of  Deity.  Nor  let  it  be  sup- 
posed that  this  is  a  mere  fanciful  idea,  for  which 
there  is  no  foundation  in  Scripture  apart  from 
the  teaching  of  this  parable.  What  says  Paul — 
"  God  hath  created  all  things  by  Jesus  Christ :  to 
the  intent  that  now,  unto  the  principalities  and 
powers  in  heavenly  places^  might  be  known  through 
the  Church  the  manifold  wisdom  of  God."  (Eph. 
iii.  10.)  Now,  these  words  mean,  if  they  mean 
anything  at  all,  that  through  the  Church,  God 
designed  to  show  to  principalities  and  powers  in 
heavenly  places  His  manifold  wisdom.  In  the 
manifestation  of  this  wisdom  God  has  His  high- 
est work,  and,  in  its  appreciation  by  spiritual  in- 
telligences, through  the  Church  of  Christ,  He  has 
His  greatest  joy.  Farther  than  this  I  dare  not 
go ;  but  up  to  this  point  we  must  advance,  if  at 
least  we  would  rightly  interpret  this  delightful 
parable. 

Now,   strictly  speaking,   my  present  work   is 
done.  I  have  shown  you  as  clearly  and  succinctly 


THE  LOST  COIN.  51 

as  possible,  what  I  judge  to  be  the  special  teach- 
ings of  this  story ;  but  I  cannot  conclude  with- 
out giving  prominence  to  two  thoughts  which 
may  be  of  some  practical  value  to  us  all. 

In  the  first  place  I  remind  you  of  the  possibility 
of  the  recovery  of  any  soul.  There  is  no  one 
one  beyond  hope.  No  sinner  need  despair  of 
himself,  and  no  worker  in  the  service  of  Jesus 
need  despair  of  the  conversion  of  any  one  for 
whose  recovery  he  is  ardently  praying  and  ear- 
nestly working.  However  depraved  or  degraded 
a  man  may  be,  he  is  not  beyond  hope  so  long 
as  the  truth  of  the  Gospel  may  be  proclaimed 
in  his  hearing.  1  cannot  put  this  thought  more 
strikingly  than  it  has  been  presented  in  the  fol- 
lowing lines,  selected  from  the  poem  entitled 
"  Beautiful  Snow,"  especially  when  they  are  read 
in  the  hght  of  the  interesting  history  which  has 
been  told,  with  what  truth  I  know  not,  in  con- 
nection with  them.  "  In  the  earlj'  part  of  the 
American  war,  one  dark  Saturday  morning,  there 
died  in  the  Commercial  Hospital,  Cincinnati,  a 
young  woman,  over  whose  head  only  two  and 
twenty  summers  had  passed.  She  had  once 
been  possessed  of  an  enviable  share  o.f  beauty  ; 
but,   alas !    upon  her  fair  broTV   had  long  been 


52  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

written  the  terrible  word,  Fallen.  Among  her 
personal  effects  was  found,  in  manuscript,  the 
"  Beautiful  Snow,"  which  was  immediately  car- 
ried to  a  gentleman  of  culture  and  literary  taste, 
who  was  at  that  time  Editor  of  the  *'  National 
Union."  In  the  columns  of  that  paper,  on  the 
morning  following  the  girl's  death,  the  poem  ap- 
peared in  print  for  the  first  time."  It  is  all  ex- 
quisite, but  for  my  present  purpose,  I  give  only 
these  three  verses  : 


Once  I  was  pure  as  tlie  snow,  but  I  fell, 
Fell  like  tlie  snow,  but  from  heaven  to  bell ; 
Fell  to  be  trampled,  as  filth  of  the  street  ; 
Fell  to  be  scojBfed,  to  be  spit  on,  and  beat  ; 
Pleading, — cursing, — dreading  to  die, 
Selling  my  soul  to  whoever  would  buy  ; 
Dealing  in  shame  for  a  morsel  of  bread  ; 
Hating  the  living,  and  fearing  the  dead. 
Merciful  God  !    Have  I  fallen  so  low  ? 
And  yet  I  was  once  like  the  beautiful  snow  I 

Once  I  was  fair  as  the  beautiful  snow, 
With  an  eye  like  a  crystal,  a  heart  like  its  glow  ; 
Once  I  was  loved  for  my  innocent  grace — 
Flattered  and  sought  for  the  charms  of  my  face  ! 

Father,  — mother,  — sisters,  — all, 
God  and  myself  I  have  lost  by  my  fall  ; 
The  veriest  wi-etch  that  goes  shivering  by 


THE  LOST  COIN.  53 

"Will  make  a  wide  sweep,  lest  I  wander  too  nigh  ; 

For  all  that  is  on  or  about  me  I  know, 

There  is  nothing  that's  pure  as  the  beautiful  snow. 

******* 

Helpless  and  foul  as  the  trampled  snow, 
Sinner,  despair  not !  Christ  stoopeth  low 
To  rescue  the  soul  that  is  lost  in  sin, 
And  raise  it  to  life  and  enjoyment  again. 

Groaning, — bleeding, — dying,  for  thee. 
The  Crucified  hung  on  the  cursed  tree  ! 
His  accents  of  pity  fall  soft  on  thine  ear. 
•*  Is  there  mercy  for  me?  Will  He  heed  my  weak  prayer? 
O  God  !  in  the  stream  that  for  sinners  did  flow 
Wash  me  !  and  I  shall  be  whiter  than  snow." 

Take  to  thyself,  O  sinner,  the  message  of  these 
lines,  and  make  for  thyself  the  prayer  with  which 
they  conclude.  No  matter  how  aggravated  thine 
iniquities  have  been,  or  how  deeply  depraved  thy 
spirit  may  be,  there  is  mercy  for  thee.  Thou 
mayest  yet  be  forgiven  and  renewed,  if  only  thou 
wilt  trust  in  Him  who  is  "  able  to  save  unto  the 
uttermost  all  that  come  unto  God  by  Him." 

Finally,  let  me  once  more  insist  upon  the  truth, 
that  the  most  God-Hke  work  in  which  any  one 
can  engage  is  that  of  seeking  to  save  the  lost. 
Look,  again,  at  the  teachings  of  this  chapter.  In 
the   first   parable   we  have  the  Divine  Sou,  the 


54  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

Good  Sliepherd,  coming  into  the  world  after  the 
lost  sheep  ;  in  the  second,  as  we  have  just  seen, 
we   have    the    Divine    Spirit    putting   forth   His 
agency  for  the  recovery  of  sinful  souls ;  and,  in 
the  third,  we  have  the  Divine  Father  welcoming, 
in  the  fullness  of  infinite  tenderness,  the  returning 
penitent.     Are  we  wrong,  then,  when  from  these 
things   we   deduce  the  inference,  that   the  great 
work  and  happiness  of  Godhead  are  connected 
with  the  salvation  of  lost  souls  ?     But  if  this  be 
so,  it  will  follow  that  man  is  then  likest  God,  and 
most  really  a  partaker  of  His  happiness,  when  He 
is  seeking  to  save  the  lost.    Do  you  want  to  be,  in 
the  highest  sense,  a  fellow-laborer  with  God  ?  do 
you   wish   to    be    a    sharer    of    the  loftiest   joy 
which  even  Deity  can  know  ?    Then  go  forth  to 
seek  and  to  sate  that  which  was  lost.     Care  not 
what  sacrifices  it  may  involve,  or  what  discom- 
forts   it    may    entail    upon  you.     Never    mind, 
though  it  may  require  you  to  go  to  dens  of  in- 
famy or  haunts  .of  sin.     These  are  not  so  far  be- 
neath you  as  this  evil  world  was  beneath   the 
Eternal  Son  of  God ;  neither  are  they  anything 
like  so  far  removed  from  your  refinement  of  na- 
ture, as  this  world  was  from  His  infinite  j)urity. 
Go,  and  He  wiU  take  care  of  you,  and  give  you 


THE  LOST   COIN.  00 

success.    Were  some  fashionable  lady  to  drop  her 
diamond  ring  into  the  gutter,  she  would  not  scru- 
ple to  thrust  her  ungloved  hand  into  the  filthy 
sewage,  if  thereby  she  might  recover  her  precious 
ornament ;  and  shall  not  we  expose  ourselves,  if 
need  be,  to  contact  with  moral  and  spiritual  im- 
purity, if  only  we  may  be  instrumental  in  recov- 
ering the  immortal  jewel  of  a  human  soul,  and  re- 
storing it  to  its  Creator's  hand  ?     The  great  nov- 
elist has  no  more  touching  or  pathetic  chapter 
in  his  voluminous  writings  than  that  which  tells 
how  the  big,  burly,  honest  sailor  set  out  from  his 
boat-house  on  the  Yarmouth  shore,  to  seek  for 
her  who  had  been  ruined  by  the  villain  whom  he 
took  to  be  his  friend ;  and  when  we  shall  feel 
about  lost  sinners  as  he  did  about  her  ;  when  we 
shall  go  forth  in  a  search  for  them  as  earnest,  as 
long,  and  as  persistent  as  was  his,  we  shall  begin 
to  be  disciples  indeed,  and  shall  know  something 
of  the  joy  that  is  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth.     Earth  has  no  happiness  like  to  his 
who  is  instrumental  in  finding  the  piece  that  was 
lost,   and   restoring  it  to   its    Heavenly   Owner. 
May  God  give  us  more  of  this  celestial  happi- 
ness 1 


THE    PRODIGAL    SON. 


I. 

THE      DEPARTURE. 


"And  he  said,  A  certain  tt^ti  >iad  two  sons  : 

«  And  the  younger  of  them  said  to  his  father.  Father,  give  me  the  por- 
tion of  goods  that  faUeth  to  me.    And  he  divided  unto  them  his  living. 

'•-  And  not  many  days  after,  the  younger  son  gathered  aU  to-ether  and 
took  his  journey  into  a  iar  country,  and  there  wasted  his  substance  with 
riotous  living. 

»  And  when  he  had  spent  all,  there  arose  a  mlehty  famine  in  that  land  • 
and  he  ieg^  to  be  in  wanL  ' 

"And  he  went  and  joined  himself  to  a  citizen  of  that  country  •  and  he 
eent  him  into  his  fields  to  feed  swine. 

"  And  he  would  fain  have  fiUed  hia  beUy  with  the  husks  that  the  swine 
did-  eat ;  and  no  man  gave  unto  him." 

LCKB,  XV.,  U-lfl. 


THE   PRODIGAL   SOX. 


I. 


THE  DEPARTURE. 

Not  without  many  misgivings  do  I  venture  on 
the  exposition  of  this  parable.  It  is  in  itself  so 
perfect,  as  holding  up  the  mirror  to  nature,  that  I 
am  afraid  to  touch  it,  lest  I  should  dim  its  sur- 
face by  defiling  fingers  j  and  its  main  teachings 
are  so  clearly  defined,  that  I  fear  lest,  in  seeking 
to  explain  and  enforce  them,  I  should  prove  to  be 
like  that  commentator  on  the  "  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
gress "  whose  notes  were  harder  to  be  understood 
than  the  original  allegory.  Nevertheless,  as  it  is 
a  necessary  appendix  to,  and  completion  of,  the 
truth  portrayed  in  those  which  I  have  already 
considered,  I  am  constrained  to  enter  upon  its 
examination  ;  and  my  prayer  is,  that  the  Spirit  of 
Him  who  spake  it  may  rest  upon  me  while  I  seek 


60  THE   LOST  FOUND. 

to  illustrate  it,  and  may  keep  me  from  saying  any- 
thing that  may  mar  its  force,  overlay  its  beauty, 
or  destroy  its  pathos. 

Like  those  by  which  it  is  preceded,  it  was  de- 
signed to  rebuke  the  cold-hearted  and  self-right- 
eous exclusiveiiess  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees, 
and  to  show  them  that,  in  despising  Jesus  for  re- 
ceiving sinners  and  eating  with  them,  they  were 
altogether  out  of  harmony  with  Him  who  rejoic- 
eth  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth.  But  it  differs 
from  them  in  that,  while  they  illustrate  the  man- 
ner in  which  God  seeks  the  lost  sinner,  it  de- 
scribes the  result  of  that  search  in  the  voluntary 
return  of  the  sinner  himself.  They  view  the  mat- 
ter from  the  Divine  side,  and  let  us  see  the  efforts 
which  God  has  put  forth  in  the  incarnation  of  His 
Son,  and  the  agency  of  His  Spirit,  to  find  and 
save  that  which  has  been  lost.  This  regards  the 
subject  from  the  human  side,  and  shows  us  the 
sinner  rising  from  his  degradation  and  returning 
to  his  Father.  Yet  they  are  not  so  much  two  se- 
parate and  distinct  things,  as  two  sides  of  one  and 
the  same  thing.  Admirably  has  Mr.  Arnot  said 
here,  "  It  is  not  that  some  of  fallen  human  kind 
are  saved  after  the  manner  of  the  strayed  sheep, 
and  others  after  the  manner  of  the  prodigal  son  ; 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  61 

not  that  the  Saviour  bears  one  wanderer  home 
by  His  power,  and  that  another  of  his  own  ac- 
cord arises  and  returns  to  tlie  Father.  Both 
these  processes  are  accomphshed  in  every  conver- 
sion. The  man  comes,  yet  Christ  brings  him  ; 
Christ  brings  him,  yet  he  comes."  The  Spirit 
sweeps  the  house  and  finds  him  ;  yet  he  himself 
of  his  own  free  choice  arises  and  goes  to  his 
Father. 

Again,  in  the  two  preceding  parables,  little  or 
nothing  is  said  as  to  the  sinner's  departure  from 
God,  and  his  misery  and  degradation  in  his  lost 
condition.  The  main  points  which  they  illustrate 
are  the  seeking,  the  finding,  and  the  joy  resulting 
from  the  recovery.  The  loss  which  they  describe 
is  rather  a  loss  sustained,  if  I  may  so  say,  by  De- 
ity ;  and  scarcely  any  hint  is  given  of  that  which 
is  incurred  by  the  sinner  himself.  Here,  however, 
the  misery  of  man  away  from  God,  and  in  the 
far  land  of  sin,  is  set  in  the  forefront ;  and  no- 
where in  the  whole  range  of  literature,  whether 
sacred  or  profane,  have  we  a  more  vivid  exempli- 
fication of  the  awful  truth,  that  "  the  way  of  trans- 
gressors is  hard." 

In  the  episode  of  the  elder  brother,  too,   we 
have  something  unique  and  peculiar  to   this  par- 


62  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

able.  In  the  former  allegories  there  is  no  jarring 
or  dissonant  note  in  the  chorus  of  rejoicing  over 
the  recovery  of  that  which  was  lost ;  but  here, 
that  in  the  mirror  which  Jesus  held  up,  the 
Scribes  and  Pharisees  might  see  their  own  like- 
ness as  well  as  His,  we  have  one  surly  and  sour 
dissentient,  who  virtually  says  to  his  Father, 
what  they  had  said  to  Jesus,  "  Wilt  thou  receive 
a  sinner  and  eat  with  him  ?" 

But,  without  lingering  longer  on  the  mere  out- 
lines of  the  story,  let  us  look  at  the  incidents 
which  it  records.  We  are  introduced  into  a  fa- 
mily whose  home,  for  anything  that  appears  to 
the  contrary,  may  have  been  in  some  sweet  ru- 
ral' retreat,  with  every  added  accessory  of  com- 
fort and  enjoyment.  There  is  a  father  and  two 
grown-up  sons,  and  for  a  time  all  is  happiness 
and  harmony.  But  at  length,  weary  of  the  mo- 
notony of  the  country ;  or  chafing  under  the 
sense  of  restraint  which  the  father's,  presence 
created  ;  or  moved  by  that  spirit  of  adventure 
and  desire  to  see  life  and  the  woxld,  which  most 
lads  feel  in  the  opening  days  of  manhood  ;  or 
perhaps  wishing  merely  to  do  for  himself,  to 
make  his  own  way,  and  to  secure  his  own  inde- 
pendence, the  younger  son  desires  to  go  away. 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  63 

He  has  talked  of  it  often  before,  but  bis  mother 
has  always  won  him  over  by  her  affection  ;  and 
for  her  sake  he  has  consented  to  stay  yet 
awhile.  Now,  however,  the  fever  is  in  his  veins 
again.  Go  he  must,  and  shall.  So,  as  the  less 
of  two  evils,  his  father  gives  him  a  proper  out- 
fit, and  in  the  most  handsome  manner,  antici- 
pating the  division  of  his  property  that  would 
be  made  in  any  case  at  his  death,  he  bestows 
upon  him  his  portion.  The  farewells  are  soon 
said,  and  awaj^  he  goes.  He  is  bound  for  a  far 
land — the  El  Dorado  of  his  dreams,  where  mo- 
ney is  to  be  made,  and  greatness  is  to  be 
achieved,  and  whence,  perchance,  he  hopes  to  re- 
turn, in  the  evening  of  his  days,  a  nabob,  rolling 
in  wealth,  the  envy  of  every  beholder.  That  was 
the  ideal  before  him  ;  but,  ah  !-  how  different  was 
the  reality  ;  when  he  reached  his  destination,  in- 
deed, everything  looked  bright,  and  it  was  his  in- 
tention to  do  well.  Had  anybody  then  lifted  the 
veil  of  the  future,  and  shown  him  himself  as  he 
was  so  soon  to  be,  all  tattered  and  filth}',  in  the 
swine-herd's  den,  he  would  have  shrunk  back 
aghast,  and  shuddered  as  he  cried,  "  Impossi- 
ble !"  And,  doubtless,  if  it  had  required  only  a 
single  step  to  bring  him  to  that  degradation,  that 


64  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

single  step  would  never  have  been  taken.  But 
thus  in  all  likelihood  it  happened.  He  became 
connected  with  evil  companions  ;  they  led  him 
gradually  into  wicked  courses  ;  and  so  long  as  he 
had  money  to  spend  with  them,  they  were  assidu- 
ous in  their  attentions,  and  superlative  in  their 
flattery.  When,  however,  his  means  ran  done 
they  left  him  to  himself.  Famine  arose,  and,  to 
keep  himself  from  starvation,  he  Avent  and  joined 
himself  to — or,  as  the  words  might  perhaps  be 
better  rendered,  he  glued*  himself  to,  or,  he  fast- 
ened himself,  upon — a  wealthy  citizen,  who  sent 
him  to  herd  his  swine  ;  and  such  was  the  extrem- 
ity to  which  he  was  reduced,  that  he  would  glad- 
ly have  fed  from  the  trough  from  which  they  ate, 
or  on  the  pods  of  the  carob-tree  by  which  they 
were  fattened. 

Think  that  to  a  Jew  the  swine  was  an  unclean, 
abhorred  animal,  and  then  you  will  have  some 
faint  idea  of  the  degradation  which,  in  the  esti- 
mation of  His  hearers,  Jesus  here  portrays.  But 
have  we  nothing  like  this  in  our  own  land,  and  in 
our  own  day?  Who  has  not  known  some  youth 
who  has  come  from  the  country  to  one  of  our 

*  The  old  Scotch  word  to  "sorn"  upon  one,  seems  to  me  to 
be  the  exact  equivalent  of  the  original  here. 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  65 

large  towns,  and  gone  through  just  such  a  career? 
He  has  left  behind  him  a  pious  father  and  a  pray- 
ing mother,  and  come  with  high  hopes  of  success 
in  hfe  to  some  of  our  great  offices,  that  he  may  fit 
himself  for  after  eminence.  But  his  fellows 
laugh  at  his  countrified  manners,  and  ridicule 
what  they  call  his  old-fashioned  scruples,  until,  at 
length,  weary  of  their  scorn,  and  worn  out  by 
their  importunity,  he  goes  with  them  to  their 
haunts  of  sin.  He  learns  to  like  strong  drink, 
and  quaffs  his  beer  at  every  hour  of  the  day.  He 
frequents  the  theatre,  and  counts  it  a  high  honor 
to  have  the  entree  into  the  green-room,  and  to  be 
on  terms  of  familiality  with  those  who  act  upon 
the  stage.  He  is  easily  led  on  after  all  this  to 
lascivious  indulgence ;  or,  mayhap,  he  keeps  his 
betting-book,  and  begins  to  talk  oracularly  about 
this  or  that  "  event ;"  but  when  the  settling-day 
comes  round,  he  finds  that  he  has  hopelessly  in- 
volved himself  in  debts,  misnamed  of  honor, 
which  he  cannot  meet.  His  master's  money  is  at 
his  command,  and  his  emergency  constitutes  an 
apparent  necessity,  which  he  does  not  care  to 
resist.  He  uses  that  with  which  for  other  pur- 
poses he  had  been  entrusted.  He  absconds;  is 
hunted  by  detectives,  and,  hemmed  round  by  tel- 


66  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

egrapliic  wires  on  every  side,  he  is  soon  appre- 
hended and  brought  back,  hke  Eugene  Aram, 
*'  with  gyves  upon  his  wrists."  Then,  after  stand- 
ing in  the  prisoner's  dock,  disgraced  in  the  very 
citj^  in  which  he  had  dreamed  of  winning  honor, 
he  is  led  away  to  the  degradation  of  the  peni- 
tentiary, or  the  drudgery  of  convict  labor.  Or,  if 
the  issue  be  not  such  as  I  have  described,  it  may 
be  something  equally  repulsive.  He  maj  become 
a  habitual  drunkard,  sacrificing  everything  to  an 
abominable  appetite  ;  or,  w^orse  even  than  that,  he 
may  develop  into  a  contemptible  "  black-leg," 
preying  upon  the  unsuspicious,  and  making  him- 
self jackal  to  some  gambling  haunt,  until,  at 
length,  stabbed  in  some  deadly  quarrel,  or  mad- 
dened by  the  delirium  of  intemperance,  he  goes 
to  his  own  place,  unwept,  save  by  the  mother, 
who,  hearing  of  the  tragedy  in  her  far-off  home, 
wrings  her  hands,  and  cries,  "  O  my  son !  my 
son !  would  God  I  had  died  for  thee !  my  son  ! 
my  son  !"  For  remember,  it  is  not  every  prodi- 
gal's history  that  has  the  issue  of  this  parable, 
and  in  many,  many  instances  the  grave  comes 
only  to  cover,  with  its  dark  green  pall,  the  more 
dreadful  experiences  that  lie  beyond.  It  may 
seem,  indeed,  aside  from  the  main  line  of  spirit- 


THE   PRODIGAL  SON.  67 

ual  exposition  to  dwell  upon  such  things  as  these; 
and  strictly  speaking,  so  it  is.  But  I  am  looking 
now  at  the  parable,  not  as  an  allegory,  but  as  a 
literal  narrative  which  it  may  well  enough  have 
been.  And  it  is  not  aside  from  my  -mission  as  a 
minister,  especiall^^  in  a  large  community  like  this, 
to  bring  out  strongly  and  broadly  the  danger  of 
such  practices  as  those  to  which  I  have  alluded. 
I  might  fortify  my  remarks,  and  vindicate  the 
dark  picture  which  I  have  drawn,  by  many  sad 
examples  taken  from  the  records  of  our  various 
courts  ;  but  I  prefer  to  give  you  one  or  two  cases 
which  have  passed  under  my  own  observation.  I 
have  seen,  sitting  shoeless  and  shirtless  on  a  cab, 
'  joining  himself  to  '  the  driver,  if  haply  he  might 
get  anything  out  of  him,  a  young  man  who  had 
inherited  a  large  fortune,  who  had  been  in  the 
same  classes  with  me  at  school,  and  who  had  sat 
as  a  student  for  the  ministry  on  the  same  benches 
with  me  at  College.  I  have  visited  in  a  Liver- 
pool prison  where  he  was  under  sentence  of  six 
months'  imprisonment  for  stealing  a  watch,  which 
he  had  pawned  for  drink,  a  man  who  was  an 
M.A.  of  a  Scottish  University,  and  who  had  been 
Principal  of  a  College  in  a  foreign  land.  I  have 
had,  as  a  beggar  at  my  door,  a  man  of  my  own 


68  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

age,  brouglit  up  in  the  same  street  with  me,  who 
had  squandered  a  large  patrimony  in  such  courses 
as  I  have  described  ;  and  as  I  saw  the  grey  hair 
of  his  premature  old  age  streaming  in  the  wind, 
and  heard  him  call  me  by  the  old  famihar  name 
of  my  boyhood,  as  he  besought  me  for  assist- 
ance, I  could  not  but  think  of  these  words,  "  And 
when  he  had  spent  all,  there  arose  a  mighty  fa- 
mine in  the  land,  and  he  began  to  be  in  want." 

Similar  cases,  I  feel  confident,  have  been  wit- 
nessed by  almost  all  before  me  who  have  attained 
to  middle  hfe  ;  and  with  such  occurrences  in  my 
remembrance,  I  cannot  allow  the  present  oppor- 
tunity to  pass  without  uttering  a  few  words  of 
warning  to  those  young  people  here  who  have 
only  recently  left  the  home  of  their  childhood  for 
the  hfe  of  the  great  city,  or  who  have  passed 
from  the  routine  of  the  school,  to  the  stir,  and 
activity,  and  temptations  of  modern  business. 
Two  things  I  would  especially  urge  : 
Beware  of  evil  companions.  Wait  till  you  see 
what  is  in  men  before  you  trust  yourselves  to 
them.  Do  not  allow  yourselves  to  be  led  away 
by  appearances.  Soft  speeches,  flattering  words, 
a  winning  manner,  and  an  artless  way,  may  all  be 
assumed  only  the  better  to  decoy  you.     Distrust 


# 


THE   mODIGAL   SON.  69 

all  those  who  would  ridicule  to  you  the  sanctity 
and  associations  of  home.  Have  no  confidence 
in  any  one  who  would  endeavor  to  shake  your 
faith  in  the  Scriptures,  or  attempt  to  lead  you 
away  from  the  observance  of  the  Sabbath,  and  the 
enjoyment  of  the  sanctuary.  Do  not  permit  your- 
selves to  be  moved  from  your  convictions  by  the 
swagger  or  the  ridicule  of  any  one.  Have  faith 
in  God,  have  faith  in  yourself,  and  cultivate  the 
friendship  of  those  only  who  are  the  friends  of 
Jesus.  Seek  to  find  friends  in  the  church.  Call 
upon  and  cultivate  the  acquaintance  of  your  min- 
ister. Lay  yourself  out  for  work  in  connection 
with  the  congregation  which  3'ou  wish  to  join,  and 
thus  you  will  find  resources  for  the  spending  of 
those  leisure  hours  which  have  so  much  to  do  with 
making  or  marring  the  life-history  of  every  man. 
I  know  that  you  will  say,  in  response  to  all  this, 
"  Yes,  it  is  very  good  ;  but  then  congregations  are 
so  exclusive  that  one  may  attend  a  church  regu- 
larly for  months,  and  no  one  speak  to  him."  Now, 
to  a  certain  extent,  I  admit  the  truth  of  your 
words  ;  and  I  would  say  to  the  members  of  this 
church,  that  it  is  a  sacred  duty  which  they  owe 
to  Jesus,  to  show  interest  in  all  who  come  thus, 
strangers  and  unbefriended,  into  the  midst  of  us. 


70  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

Who  can  tell  but  that  some  youth,  who  has  been 
worshipping  here  for  weeks,  and  has  since  gone 
into  evil  courses,  might  have  been  led  upwards  in- 
stead, if  some  of  us  had  only  taken  him  by  the 
hand  ?  When  your  own  children  go  away  from 
you  to  a  strange  place,  you  will  count  it  the  high- 
est favor  that  could  be  shown  to  you  if  some 
Christian  friend  will  but  open  his  heart  to  them. 
As  ye  would,  therefore,  that  men  should  do  to 
you,  do  ye  even  so  now  to  them  ;  and,  for  the 
sake  of  the  parents  who  are  praying  far  away, 
show  kindness  to  the  children,  who  are  strangers 
here.  But  while  I  frankly  admit  the  exclusive- 
ness  of  modern  church  life,  and  bitterly  bewail  it, 
I  would  say  also  to  my  young  friend  who  is  a 
stranger.  There  may  be  a  good  deal  of  the  same 
exclusiveness  in  yourself.  If  you  make  no  ad- 
vances, you  can  scarcely  wonder  if  no  advances 
are  made  to  you ;  and,  in  general,  I  am  sure  of 
this,  that  if  you  will  only  offer  your  services  for 
Christian  work,  and  get  in  among  the  active  peo- 
ple in  the  church — in  Sunday-school  operations, 
or  in  those  of  any  of  the  other  associations — you 
will  soon  feel  yourself  at  home.  Your  heart  will 
get  a  local  centre,  and  you  will  become  so  inter- 


THE  PKODIGAL  SON.  71 

ested  in  higher  things  that  the  temptations  of  the 
city  will  cease  to  charm  3-011. 

But,  as  a  second  advice,  I  would  say.  Beware 
of  evil  habits.  Easily  learned,  they  are  most  diffi- 
cult to  be  overcome.  At  first  slender  as  "  the 
spider's  most  attenuated  thread,"  they  thicken 
round  us  into  cords  by  which  we  are  bound  into 
the  most  utter  helplessness.  No  slavery  may  for 
one  moment  be  compared  to  that  of  the  man  who 
is  the  servant  of  his  lusts,  and  the  victim  of  per- 
nicious habits.  Withstand  beginnings,  therefore. 
"  Look  not  on  the  wine  when  it  is  red  in  the  cup." 
nor  let  your  strength  be  eaten  out  of  you  by  its 
bewitching  influence.  There  is  a  coiled  adder  at 
the  bottom  of  the  steaming  bowl,  and,  however  it 
may  be  concealed  at  first,  it  will  "  at  the  last " 
sting  you  into  spiritual  death.  Hear  the  confes- 
sion of  one  of  the  finest  of  English  Essayists,  who 
unhappily  knew  from  experience  only  too  well  the 
degradation  which  he  describes,  and  take  the 
warning  which  he  cries  to  you  out  of  his  depths  : 
"  The  waters  have  gone  over  me.  But  out  of  the 
black  depths,  could  I  be  heard,  I  would  cry  to  all 
those  who  have  but  set  afoot  in  the  perilous  flood. 
Could  the  youth  to  whom  the  flavor  of  his  first 
wine  is  dehcious  as  the  opening  scenes  of  life,  or 


72  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

the  entering  upon  some  newly-discoVered  Para- 
dise, look  into  my  desolation,  and  be  made  to  un- 
derstand what  a  dreary  thing  it  is  when  a  man 
shall  feel  himself  going  down  a  precipice  with 
open  eyes  and  a  passive  will ;  to  see  his  destruc- 
tion, and  have  no  power  to  stop  it,  and  yet  to  feel 
it  all  the  way  emanating  from  himself ;  to  per- 
ceive all  goodness  emptied  out  of  him,  and  yet 
not  be  able  to  fix  a  time  when  it  was  otherwise  ; 
to  bear  about  the  piteous  spectacle  of  his  own 
self-ruin ;  could  he  see  my  fevered  eye,  feverish 
with  last  night's  drinking,  and  feverishly-looking 
for  this  night's  repetition  of  the  folly  ;  could  he 
feel  the  body  of  the  death  out  of  which  I  cry 
hourly  with  feebler  and  feebler  outcry  to  be  de- 
livered,— it  were  enough  to  make  him  dash  the 
sparkling  beverage  to  the  earth  in  all  the  pride  of 
its  manthng  temptation — to  make  him  clasp  his 

teeth, 

*  And  not  undo  them, 

To  suffer  wet  damnation  to  run  through  them.'  "* 

Alas  !  poor  Lamb  ;  may  thy  words  to-day  prove 
words  of  power  to  every  one  of  us  ! 

But  intemperance  is  not  the  only  evil  habit  of 


*  See  Essays  of  Elia  :  The  Confessions  of  a  Drunkard. 


THE  PEODIGAL  SON.  73 

which  you  need  to  have  a  care.  Flee  youthful 
lusts.  Keep  yourselves  pure  ;  for  sensuality,  too, 
lays  a  deep  hold  upon  the  man,  and  drags  him 
down  to  utter  loathsomeness.  One  who  spake 
from  his  own  life-history  has  said  regarding  it, 
that  it  "  hardens  a'  within,  and  petrifies  the  feel- 
ing." It  poisons  the  imagination  of  a  man,  cor- 
rupts his  heart,  and  depraves  his  entire  nature ; 
so  that  though  he  may,  to  the  shame  of  all  socie- 
ty, retain  his  place  in  the  most  fashionable  circles, 
and  be  courted  by  parents  for  the  daughters  of 
their  home,  the  sensualist  is  ever  the  most  selfish 
of  mortals,  having  the  passions  of  an  animal, 
while  the  conscience  which  should  restrain  them 
is  hardened  into  insensibility  and  impotence. 

Be  on  your  guard,  too,  against  the  seductions 
of  gambling.  Do  not  bet  even  "  the  thousandth 
part  of  one  poor  scruple "  upon  any  event, 
whether  it  be  the  issue  of  a  game,  or  the  winning 
of  a  race,  or  the  rolling  of  a  ball.  Say  not  to  me 
that  you  do  so  only  for  a  small  amount :  the  prin- 
ciple is  the  same,  whether  the  stake  be  a  cent  or 
a  thousand  dollars.  It  is  by  littles  that  the  habit 
is  acquired ;  yet  when  it  has  obtained  the  mas- 
tery I  question  if  there  be  one  other  passion 
which  so  absorbs  and  overpowers  the  soul  as  that 


74  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

of  betting ;  and  in  these  clays,  when  among  the 
"  old  nobility  "  of  Great  Britain  the  fortunes  of 
dukedoms  and  the  estates  of  earls  have  been  gam- 
bled away ;  when  the  youth  of  our  commercial 
cities  are  staking  right  and  left  upon  politicians 
and  pugilists,  and  upon  dogs  and  horses,  and 
when  even  in  our  exchanges  so  much  of  what  is 
called  business  is  as  really  gambling  as  anything 
you  will  see  at  Homburg  or  Wiesbaden,  it  is  sure- 
ly time  to  call  a  halt.  Go  not,  I  beseech  you, 
in  these  ways  of  iniquity :  the  gate  may  be  wide, 
the  path  may  be  flowery,  and,  for  a  time,  pros- 
perity may  seem  to  attend  you  ;  but  it  leads  down- 
ward, and  its  end  is  death.  Enter  not  through  the 
gate,  therefore,  but  "  stand  ye  in  the  ways,  and 
see,  and  ask  for  the  old  paths,  where  is  the  good 
way,  and  walk  therein,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto 
your  souls." 

Thus  far  I  have  been  dealing  with  this  story 
as  if  it  were  only  a  literal  narrative  ;  and  I  could 
not,  with  any  justice  to  my  own  feelings,  or  any 
proper  fidelity  to  you,  withhold  from  you  the 
lessons  which,  even  from  this  aspect  of  it,  we  may 
learn.  But  we  should  greatly  mistake  its  mean- 
ing if  we  should  restrict  its  reference  to  those  who 
are  accounted  prodigals  by  their  fellow-men.     It 


THE  PEODIGAL  SON.  75 

has  a  spiritual  significance  underlying  its  external 
incidents  ;  and,  thus  viewed,  every  man  is  a  prod- 
igal. God  is  the  Father  whom  we  have  left ;  sin 
is  the  far  land  into  which  we  have  wandered  ;  and 
the  famine  pictured  in  these  verses  is  but  a  faint 
delineation  of  the  spiritual  desolation  to  which 
we  have  reduced  ourselves  by  our  iniquity.  This, 
which  is  the  interpretation  proper  of  the  first  por- 
tion of  the  parable,  I  will  try  to  put  before  you 
briefly  ere  I  close. 

I.  Here  is,  first,  tlie  nature  of  sin.  It  is  a  de- 
parture from  our  Heavenly  Father — a  determina- 
tion to  be  independent  'of  God — a  taking  of  the 
ordering  of  our  lives  into  our  own  hands — a  chaf- 
ing under  the  restraints  alike  of  the  Divine  law 
and  the  Divine  love,  and  a  setting  up  of  ourselves 
as  our  own  gods.  Cunningly  did  Satan  say  to 
our  common  parents  at  the  first — "  Ye  shall  be  as 
God,  knowing  good  and  evil ;"  and  still  this  self- 
assertion  lies  at  the  root  of  our  ahenation  of 
heart  from  God,  and  rebellion  of  hfe  against 
Him. 

But  yet  more,  this  alienation  of  heart  is  from  a 
Father ;  this  rebellion  is  against  One  who  has 
done  more  for  us  than  ever  mother  did  for  the  son 


76  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

of  her  love.  I  know  no  more  touching  exposi- 
tion of  God's  Fatherhood  than  that  which  this 
parable  furnishes.  Some,  indeed,  will  hare  it  that 
not  until  Jesus  was  revealed  as  the  eternal  Son, 
did  God  declare  Himself  the  Father  of  any  one 
in  our  human  nature.  But  this  opinion  will  not 
stand  before  such  a  parable  as  that  which  we  are 
now  considering.  I  willingly  allow  that  only 
through  Jesus  Christ  does  God  now,  consistently 
with  His  personal  honor  and  righteous  adminis- 
tration, receive  sinners  back  again  as  sons  into 
His  home.  But  surely,  in  the  relationship  be- 
tween the  prodigal  and  his  father,  here,  we  have 
a  type  of  that  Avhich  existed  between  God  and 
man  before  the  fall.  If  this  be  not  so,  then,  for 
any  significance  that  hes  in  the  p'lirase,  you  might 
as  well  have  read,  "  A  certain  king  had  two  sub- 
jects ;"  or  "  A  certain  master  had  two  servants." 
But  if  you  so  read,  you  take  away  the  whole  pith 
and  pathos  of  the  story.  Hence  we  cannot  but 
think  that  here  we  have  a  reference  to  God's  ori- 
ginal fatherly  relationship  to  the  human  race. 
Now  this,  while  it  explains  why  He  was  so  anx- 
ious to  get  His  lost  children  back,  and  gives  them 
such  a  welcome  when  they  do  return,  does  also, 
from  the  other  side  of  it,  deepen  the  guilt  of  the 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON,  77 

sinner.  His  offence  is  not  merely  that  of  disobe- 
dience to  a  master,  or  treason  against  a  king,  but 
it  is,  in  combination  with  both  of  these,  ingrati- 
tude to  a  Father.  We  condemn,  as  the  most  cul- 
pable of  all  things,  the  cruelty  of  a  son  to  his 
yenerable  parent :  and  we  have  scarcely  language 
strong  enough  to  express  our  detestation  of  such 
conduct  as  that  of  Absalom  to  his  father.  Yet,  in 
God's  sight,  we  have  been  doing  the  very  same 
thing,  and  we  have  given  him  occasion  to  say 
concerning  us,  as  Israel  of  old,  "Hear,  O  heav- 
ens, and  give  ear,  O  earth  ;  for  the  Lord  hath 
spoken.  I  have  nourished  and  brought  up  child- 
ren, and  they  have  rebelled  against  me." 

II.  But,  secondly,  we  have  here  brought  before 
us  thi  consequences  of  sin.  The  first  stage  of  ini- 
quity is  7'iotousjoy.  We  must  not  keep  that  out 
of  view.  There  is  a  pleasure  in  it,  of  a  sort  ; 
for  if  this  were  not  so,  men  would  not  be  found 
indulging  in  it  at  all.  There  must  be  some  kind 
of  exhilaration  in  the  flowing  bowl,  or  in  the 
wild  thrill  of  sensual  gratification,  or  in  the  gains 
of  dishonesty.  In  every  sin  there  is  something  of 
riot.  "  Stolen  waters  arc  sweet,"  perhaps,  just 
because  they  are  stolen  ;  but  the  sweetness  does 


78  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

Bot  last  long.  It  turns  to  bitterness  in  the  belly  ; 
for,  see,  as  the  next  result,  the  ivaste  tvJiich  it  occa- 
sions. It  wastes  money,  as  we  have  to-day  al- 
ready remarked ;  it  wastes  health  ;  it  wears  the 
body  to  decay  ;  but  that  is  not  the  worst.  These 
things  here  are  set  forth  as  but  the  outward  indi- 
cations of  the  waste  of  the  soul.  And,  in  truth, 
what  a  blasting  thing  sin  is  on  the  human  spirit ! 
How  many  who,  in  their  youth,  gave  high  prom- 
ise of  mental  greatness,  are  now  reduced  to  the 
merest  drivellers,  unable  either  to  speak  or  write 
save  under  the  influence  of  opium  or  alcohol  \ 
Ah !  even  as  I  speak,  there  rise  up  before  me  the 
fair  forms  of  many  noble  fellows  who,  humanly 
speaking,  might  have  counted  on  the  highest  po- 
sitions in  their  several  profession,  but  whose  in- 
tellects have  been  weakened  by  their  own  enor- 
mities. Then,  morally,  how  does  sin  blight  the 
conscience,  eating  it  out  of  the  man,  until  he  is 
ready  for  any  iniquity  !  How  it  weakens  the  will, 
so  that  he  who  once  stood  firm  as  the  oak  against 
all  storms,  bends  now  like  a  reed  before  the  most 
trifling  breeze  !  Never  will  I  forget  how  a  wife, 
speaking  once  of  the  weakness  of  her  husband's 
will  before  the  fascination  of  drink  and  evil  com- 
panions, said :  "  He  used  to  be  a  firm  and  noble 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  79 

fellow  ;  but  lie  is  a  bairn  noo."  Yes,  a  child  in 
weakness ;  but,  alas !  alas !  very  far  indeed  from 
being  a  child  in  innocence.  Sin  had  shorn  the 
locks  of  his  strength  ;  and  the  Philistines,  in  the 
shape  of  his  own  appetites,  had  bound  him  cap- 
tive. "Where  has  the  father's  portion  gone  in  such 
cases  ?  Where  are  the  good  gifts  of  God  to  the 
soul  now  ?  And  who,  in  sinners  like  these,  can 
discern  almost  the  faintest  trace  of  the  image  of 
God  which  once  they  bore  ? 

But  observe,  farther,  as  the  next  consequence, 
we  have  famine — i.e.,  spiritual  want,  and  a  crav- 
ino-  after  something  that  yet  cannot  be  found. 
There  is  nothing  in  iniquity  that  can  give  con- 
tentment to  the  spirit.  "  God  has  made  us  for 
Himself,  and  our  souls  are  restless  till  tl>ey  rest 
themselves  in  Him."  We  might  illustrate  this  is 
the  history  of  sinners  of  every  social  position  : 
but,  perhaps,  you  will  be  more  convinced  of  the 
truth  on  which  I  now  insist  if  I  give  you  a  few 
cases  of  men  who  had  no  external  want  unsatis- 
fied, and  yet  were  tormented  by  an  aching  void  in 
their  hearts,  craving  for  a  happiness  that  would 
not  come  at  their  desire  ;  and  I  gladly  appropri- 
ate here  the  words  of  Dr.  Hamilton,  in  his  most 
su^f^estive  Lectures  on  the  Book  of  Ecclesiastes  : 


80  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

— "  We  could  call  into  court  nearly  as  many  wit- 
nesses as  there  have  been  hunters  of  happiness, 
mighty  Nimrods  in  the  chase  of  Pleasure,  and 
Fame,  and  Favor.  We  might  ask  the  statesman, 
and  as  we  wished  him  a  happy  new  year,  Lord 
Dundas  would  answer  :  '  It  had  need  to  be  a 
happier  than  the  last,  for  I  never  knew  one  hap- 
py day  in  it.'  We  might  ask  the  successful  law- 
yer, and  the  wariest,  luckiest,  most  self-compla- 
cent of  them  all  would  answer,  as  Lord  Eldon 
was  privately  recording  when  the  whole  bar'  envied 
the  Chancellor,  *  A  few  weeks  will  send  me  to 
dear  Encombe,  as  a  short  resting-place  betwixt 
vexation  and  the  grave.'  We  might  ask  the 
golden  millionaire  :  '  You  must  be  a  happy  man, 
Mr.  Rothschild.'  *  Happy  !  me  happy  !  What  ! 
happy  !  when  just  as  you  are  going  to  dine  you 
have  a  letter  placed  in  youv  hand,  saying,  "  If 
you  don't  send  me  £500,  I  will  blow  your  brains 
out !"  Happy  !  when  you  have  to  sleep  with  pis- 
tols at  your  pillows.'  We  might  ask  the  world- 
famed  warrior,  and  get  for  answer  the  *  Miserere  ' 
of  the  Emperor-Monk  (Charles  Y.,)  or  the  sigh 
of  a  broken  heart  from  St.  Helena.  We  might 
ask  the  dazzling  wit,  and,  faint  with  a  glut  of 
glory,  yet    disgusted    with    the    creatures    who 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  81 

adored  liim  Yoltaire  would  condense  the  es- 
seDce  of  liis  existence  into  one  word,  *  ennui.'  And 
we  might  ask  the  world's  poet,  and  we  would  be 
answered  with  an  imprecation  by  that  splendid 
genius  (Byron,)  who 

•  DranJi  every  cup  of  joy,  heard  every  trump 
Of  fame  ;  drank  early,  deeply  drank  ;  drank  draughts 
That  common  millions  might  have  quenched,  then  died 
Of  thkst,  because  there  was  no  more  to  drink.'  "  * 

But,  descending  from  these  cases,  let  us  ask  our- 
selves if,  apart  from  God's  favor,  we  have  ever 
had  any  real,  soHd,  lasting  joy  ?     Let  us  analyze 
our  experiences  in  sin,  and  see  if  they  have  not 
proved  that  there  is  no  satisfaction  in  iniquity 
but  that,  ever  as  we  went  on  committing  it,  our 
souls  began  to  be  in  a  greater  and  yet  greater 
want.     Oh  !  shall  we  never  become  wise  ?     Shall 
we  never  learn  that  there  is  nothing  but  misery 
while  we  are  away  from  God  ?     Ye  wlio  are  seek- 
ing  after  happiness  in   earthly    things,  forbear. 
Ye    are   pursuing    a   quest   more  visionary  than 
that  of  the  child,  who  sets  out  to  catch  the  pillars 
of  the  many-colored  rainbow  in  the  far  horizon. 

*  Hamilton's  "  Eoyal  Preacher,"  pp.  26,  27. 


82  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

Never,  never  can  you  obtain  what  you  are  seek- 
ing, save  in  God.  Turn,  tlien,  and  beseech  Him 
to  give  you  that  which  you  desire.  "  Inchne 
your  ear,  and  come  uuto  him  :  hear,  and  your 
soul  shall  live  ;  hearken  diligently  unto  him,  and 
then  your  soul  shall  delight  itself  in  fatness  ;" 
for,  if  the  universal  experience  of  humanity  on 
this  point  were  to  be  gathered  into  one  expres- 
sion, it  would  only  indorse  the  words  of  Pollok  : 

"  Attempt  how  vain, 
"With,  things  of  earthly  sort,  with  aught  but  God, 
"With  aught  but  moral  excellence,  truth,  and  love, 
To  satisfy  and  fill  the  immortal  soul — 
To  satisfy  the  ocean  with  a  drop — 
To  marry  immortality  to  death, 
And  with  the  unsubstantial  shade  of  time 
To  fill  the  embrace  of  all  eternity." 

Give  over  this  mad  endeavor,  then.  The  crav- 
ings of  your  heart  for  happiness,  if  you  only  knew 
it,  are  inarticulate  yearnings  after  God ;  and  the 
dissatisfaction  and  misery  you  feel  in  a  hfe  of 
sin,  if  you  could  but  aright  interpret  them,  are 
but  the  voice  of  your  Father  within  you,  saying 
evermore,  "  Come  home  to  me  !  Come  home  to 
me !"  0  let  Him  not  call  in  vain ;  but  arise  now 
and  return  to  Him  ! 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON. 


II. 

THE     RESOLUTION. 


"  And  when  he  came  to  himself,  he  said,  How  many  hired  servants  of 
my  father  have  bread  enough  and  to  spare,  and  I  perish  with  hunger  I 

"  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father,  and  will  say  unto  him.  Father  I  havo 
Binned  against  Heaven,  and  before  thee, 

"  And  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son  :  make  me  as  one  of  thy 
hii'ed  servants. 

"  And  he  arose,  and  came  to  his  father.     But  when  he  was  yet  a  great 

way  off,  his  father  saw  him,  and  had  compassion,  and  ran,  and  fell  on  his 

neck,  and  kissed  him." 

LiDZE  XV.,  17-20. 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON. 


II. 

THE  RESOLUTION. 

We  left  the  prodigal  in  the  far  land  feeding 
swine,  and  longing  to  fill  himself  with  the  husks 
on  which  they  fattened.  To  such  a  depth  of  de- 
gradation had  he  suuk,  that  he  was  willing  to  eat 
out  of  the  same  trough  with  the  unclean  animals 
which,  as  a  Jew,  he  so  abhorred.  Yet,  in  this 
seeming  "  lowest  deep,"  there  was  a  "  lower  still," 
for  even  this  poor  luxury  was  denied  him.  *'  No 
man  gave  unto  him."  The  very  swine  were  pre- 
ferred to  him,  as  belonging  to  a  higher  caste  than 
he,  and  he  was  not  allowed  to  share  their  fare. 
Ah,  what  a  bitter  humiliation  was  there  in  all 
this  !  He  had  left  his  home  with  many  visions  of 
prosperity  and  greatness  beckoning  him  od,  and 


86  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

this  was  the  result !  Yet,  bitter  as  it  was,  this 
experience  was  the  first  thing  that  revealed  him  to 
himself.  As  sometimes  the  drunken  husband,  reel- 
ing home  intoxicated,  is  sobered  on  the  instant  by 
the  sight  of  his  dead  wife,  and  has  most  vividly 
recalled  to  him  the  day  when,  in  the  highest 
hope  and  in  the  holiest  affection,  he  had  pledged 
himself  to  love  and  cherish  her  ;  so  this  setting 
of  the  swine  before  him  stung  the  prodigal  into 
a  consciousness  of  his  thorough  desolation  and 
his  terrible  extremity.  Till  now  he  had  kept  on 
hoping  that  *'  something  would  turn  up  "  in  his 
favor,  and  enable  him  to  retrieve  his  fortunes  ;  but 
all  such  anticipations  are  henceforth  gone.  When 
the  hogs  are  set  above  him,  it  is  all  over  with 
him.  He  has  nothing  more  to  look  for.  Either 
he  must  make  up  his  mind  to  die  of  starvation, 
or  to  go  back  to  his  father's  house.  This  is 
now  his  only  alternative.  Hitherto  the  choice 
which  he  has  set  before  him  has  always  been  be- 
tween one  or  other  of  different  ways  of  support- 
ing himself  in  the  far  countrj^  ;  but  now  the  idea 
of  maintaining  himself  there  is  seen  to  be  out 
of  the  question,  and,  for  the  first  time,  he  shapes 
the  alternative  to  himself  thus — Will  I  remain 
here,  and  die  of  starvation  ?  or  will  I  go  back  to 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  87 

the  home  which  I  so  foohshly  slighted  in  the 
days  of  the  past  ?  Not  all  at  once  would  he 
decide  upon  his  course.  Even  as  he  thought  of 
going  back,  difficulties  would  start  up  before  him. 
His  consciousness  of  guilt  would  for  a  time  un- 
man him.  Shame,  too,  would  bid  him  stay. 
Haply,  also,  the  fear  of  being  upbraided  by  his 
father  for  the  folly  of  his  conduct  would  give 
him  pause.  But,  over  and  above  these,  there 
was  the  strong,  unanswerable,  and  importunate 
argument  of  hunger.  "  At  least,  there  is  plenty 
to  eat  at  home,"  he  thought ;  "  and  though  I 
may  have  to  eat  that  plenty  with  bitter  herbs,  it 
will  be  better  than  starvation  here."  So  at 
length,  after  a  strong  inward  wrestle,  the  resolve 
comes  out,  clear  and  strong — "  I  will  arise,  and 
go  to  my  father,  and  will  say  unto  him,  father,  I 
have  sinned  against  heaven,  and  before  thee,  and 
am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son  :  make 
me  as  one  of  thy  hired  servants."  Plain,  straight- 
forward, humble,  yet  earnest,  are  the  words 
which  he  determines  to  take  with  him  ;  and  that 
nothing  may  intervene  between  the  purpose  and 
the  performance,  he  arose,  just  as  he  was,  and  set 
out  on  his  homeward  way.  The  picture  is  per- 
fect ;    and  in   the   history   of   many   an   outcast 


88  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

whom  treachery  has  first  ruined,  and  then  tram- 
pled under  foot,  it  has  been  literally  exempli- 
fied ;  nor  do  I  know  a  kinder  service  we  can  do 
to  any  poor  prodigal  whom  the  tide  of  our  city 
life  may  drift  to  our  doors  than  just  to  put  him 
in  the  way  of  returning  to  his  earthly  father's 
house ;  for,  not  unfrequently,  that  is  only  the 
first  step  in  the  return  of  the  erring  one  to  God. 
Perhaps  such  an  one,  led  by  the  providence  of 
God,  may  have  come  casually  into  this  house  to- 
day. Let  me  entreat  him  to  go  home,  and  glad- 
den the  hearts  of  those  to  whom  he  is  dear. 
By  the  memory  of  your  mother's  tenderness,  and 
your  father's  prayers ;  by  the  recollection  of  your 
childhood'^  joys,  and  of  your  boyhood's  happi- 
ness ;  by  the  obligation  under  which  you  feel 
your  parents  laid  you  for  your  education,  and 
the  oj)portunities  of  well-doing  which  you  en- 
joyed— by  all  that  is  holiest  and  most  treas- 
lu-ed  in  the  associations  of  the  past,  I  implore 
you  to  go  home.  And  if  words  will  not  move 
you,  then  let  this  touching  scene  impress  your 
heart.  Behold  that  mother  in  her  Highland 
cottage,  as  she  kneels  at  evening  prayer.  Draw 
near  and  listen  to  the  words  she  utters,  as  the 
big  tears  course  down  her  cheeks  :     "  Lordy'  she 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  89 

says,  "have  mercy  on  that  poor  lassie,  ivherever 
she  may  he  this  night.  Let  her  not  die  in  her  sins. 
Bid  bring  her  hack  to  me  again,  that  I  may  hring 
her  hack  to  Thee.''  She  rises  from  her  knees, 
goes  out  to  look  through  the  darkness  if,  per- 
chance, the  wanderer  may  be  near.  She  comes 
in  and  shuts  the  door,  but  leaves  it  unbarred, 
saying  the  while — "  /  luill  not  holt  it,  lest  she 
should  come  ivhen  I'm  asleep,  and'  I  tvould  not 
like  her  to  find  my  door  locked  against  her."  Oh, 
is  there  nothing  in  all  this  to  impel  you  home- 
ward ?  Go  back !  go  back !  the  door  into  a 
true  parent's  heart,  like  that  of  the  home  of 
which  I  have  spoken,  is  usually  on  the  latch  to 
an  erring  child,  and  the  truest  joy  you  have 
known  for  many  a  day  will  be  when  you  weep 
out  your  penitence  in  your  father's  arms. 

But  we  must  not  forget  that  this  is  not  mere- 
ly a  literal  history.  It  is  a  parable,  having  a  spir- 
itual meaning.  The  prodigal,  as  we  saw  in  the 
last  discourse,  represents  the  sinner — and  the 
scene  depicted  in  the  verses  now  before  us  de- 
scribes what  we  may  call  the  crisis  of  conversion. 
Now,  thus  regarded,  the  language  is  most  sug- 
gestive, and  illustrates  these  important  things, 
namely,  the  sinner's  true  condition  so  long  as  he 


90  THE  LOST   FOUND 

is  away  from  God,  the  means  by  wliicli  this  con- 
dition is  changed,  the  reflections  made  by  him 
after  this  change,  and  the  resolution  to  which  his 
reflections  lead. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  we  have  brought  before 
us  the  true  condition  of  the  sinner  so  long  as  lie  is 
away  from  God,  "When  he  came  to  himself  :" 
that  imphes  that  in  some  very  real  sense  he  had 
not  been  perfectly  himself.  Generally,  commen- 
tators have  supposed  that  the  reference  here  is 
to  insanity,  and  they  tell  us,  with  perfect  truth, 
that  the  sinner  is,  in  some  respects,  like  a  mad- 
man. He  follows  delusions  as  if  they  were  reali- 
ties, and  he  treats  reahties  as  if  they  were  delu- 
sions. His  moral  nature  is  perverted,  just  as  the 
lunatic's  intellect  is  beclouded  ;  and,  in  I'egard  to 
duty,  he  makes  mistakes  similar  to  those  which 
the  maniac  makes  in  ordinary  matters.  So  he 
may  well  be  styled  mad  ;  but  there  is  this  solemn 
difi'erence  between  him  and  the  ordinary  lunatic, 
that  while  insanity  cancels  responsibility,  the  sin- 
ner is  not  only  blameworthy  for  his  moral  per- 
versity, but  his  responsibility  continues  in  spite  of 
it.  Although,  however,  there  are  thus  many  in- 
teresting and  striking  points  of  resemblance  be- 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  91 

tween  tlie  condition  of  the  maniac  and  that  of  the 
sinner,  I  am  not  sure  that  the  "  coming  to  him- 
self," in  the  verse  before  me,  suggests  the  being 
"  beside  himseK,"  as  the  condition  out  of  which 
he  came.  Equally  it  may  imply  that  he  was  "  be- 
neath himself,"  or  that  there  was  in  him  a  cer- 
tain unconsciousness,  out  of  which  he  required  to 
be  roused  before  he  could  be  thoroughly  himself. 
When,  for  example,  one  has  fainted  away  and  re- 
covers, we  say  that  "  he  has  come  to  himself 
again,"  implying  that  his  consciousness  has  re- 
turned. Now,  in  my  view,  this  is  the  preferable 
way  of  looking  at  the  analogy  of  my  text.  The 
moral  nature  of  this  poor  youth  was  virtually 
dead.  His  conscience  had  become  seared,  so 
that  he  was,  in  a  manner,  unconscious  that  there 
was  such  a  faculty  within  him.  It  was  there,  but 
it  was  asleep.  It  was  there,  but  it  was  so  pre- 
cisely as  the  intellectual  nature  is  in  a  man  when 
he  is  in  a  faint :  it  was  inoperative,  it  was  not 
consciously  possessed  by  him.  At  length,  how- 
ever, roused  by  a  sense  of  his  degradation, 
and  the  touch  of  God's  Spirit,  it  awoke,  and 
then  he  came  to  himself.  The  sinner's  higher 
nature  is  dormant  in  him.  He  has  a  spiritual 
faculty  which    allies  him  with  God,  and   which, 


92  THE  LOST  FOUND 

as  the  noblest  part  of  his  nature,  is  most  really 
and  truly  himself.  But  he  is  not  conscious 
that  he  has  it.  It  is  dead  within  him.  He  has 
overlaid  it  with  trespasses  and  sins.  Hence  he  is 
not  himself.  I  do  not  mean,  of  course,  that  his 
personal  identity  is  gone,  but  rather  that  the  no- 
blest part  of  his  nature  has  been  as  good  as  lost 
by  him.  The  spiritual,  as  distinguished  from  the 
mere  intellectual,  has  become  virtually  non-exist- 
ent. His  animal  nature  may  be  as  strong  as  ever. 
His  intellect  may  be  brilliant  and  acute.  Even  in 
regard  to  morals  he  may  be  irreproachable  by  his 
fellow-men  ;  but  in  that  part  of  his  being  that 
allies  him  with  God  he  never  dwells.  He  lives,  so 
to  say,  on  the  ground-floor  of  the  soul-house,  on 
earth  and  among  earthly  things.  His  appetites, 
passions,  and  desires  are  strong  ;  his  intellect  even, 
may  be  vigorous  and  clear ;  but  it  is  only  exer- 
cised regarding  natural  things.  He  does  not 
know  those  things  which  can  be  only  "  spiritually 
discerned."  His  soul  has  no  outlook  toward  hea- 
ven, and  that  part  of  his  nature  which  was  in- 
tended to  be  its  crowning  glory,  and  which  allies 
him  to  heaven,  is  shut  up  and  tenantless,  like  a 
dusty  attic.     He  is  not  himself. 


THE   PRODIGAL   SON.  93 

11.  But  we  have  here,  secondly,  the  cliange  of  tlds 
condition:  "he  came  to  himself."  A  new  light 
broke  upon  this  youth  in  the  midst  of  his  dark- 
ness. He  saw  things  as  he  had  never  before 
perceived  them.  Not  till  now  did  he  discover 
the  guilt  and  issue  of  the  course  which  he  had 
been  pursuing  ;  and  never  in  his  past  experience 
had  his  father's  house  seemed  to  him  precious. 
For  the  first  time  since  he  left  his  home,  he  awoke 
from  "  the  dream  his  life-long  fever  gave  him," 
and  things  as  they  were  stood  unveiled  before 
him.  Now,  so  it  is  with  the  sinner.  His  conver- 
sion, too,  is  in  its  first  stage  an  awakening.  New 
thoughts  stir  within  his  soul  ;  new  feelings  vibrate 
in  his  bosom.  He  begins  to  see  what  before  had 
been  to  him  almost  as  a  landscape  is  to  a  man 
born  blind.  It  is  not  that  new  things  are  called 
into  existence  outside  of  him,  for  all  things  are 
there  as  they  were  before.  It  is  rather  that 
his  eyes  have  been  opened  to  see  them  ;  and 
the  wonder  of  his  whole  subsequent  life  is, 
that  he  never  saw  them  until  then.  He  per- 
ceives now  the  danger  in  which  he  stands ;  and 
recognizing  the  ability  and  willingness  of  God 
to  help  him,  he  cries,  like  Peter,  weltering  in  the 
w  aters,  "  Lord,  save  me  ;  I  perish."     Such  being 


94  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

the  change  whicli  is  here  called  a  coming  to 
himself,  the  question  presents  itself,  How  is  this 
alteration  brought  about  in  the  sinner  ?  The 
answer  is  important,  and  though  it  will  take  us 
into  the  deep  things  of  spiritual  experience,  I 
shall  endeavor  to  put  it  clearly  and  distinctly  be- 
fore you. 

Let  me  ask  you  to  recall  what  I  have  already 
said  regarding  the  relation  of  the  three  parables 
in  this  chapter  to  each  other.  The  first  two  set 
before  us  God  seeking  and  finding  the  sinner, 
through' the  incarnation  of  the  Son,  and  the  agency 
of  the  Spirit.  The  third  shows  us  the  sinner  seek- 
ing God.  But  we  are  not  to  suppose  that  these 
are  separate  pictures  of  distinct  conversions.  On 
the  contrary,  they  are  all  three  true  of  every  real 
conversion.  Viewed  from  the  divine  side,  God 
seeks  the  sinner  ;  but  we,  who  see  only  the  earthly 
side,  perceive  only  the  sinner  rising  and  returning 
to  God.  It  did  not  lie  in  the  Saviour's  way  in 
this  story  to  illustrate  either  the  connection  of 
His  own  sacrificial  work,  or  that  of  the  Spirit's 
agency,  with  conversion.  Indeed,  the  introduction 
of  anything  like  a  representation  of  either  of 
these  would  only  have  marred  the  unity  of  the 
parable.    But  in  dealing  with  conversion,  we  have 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  95 

to  remember  that  there  is  a  divine  side  to  the  sub- 
ject as  well  as  a  human  one,  and  that  the  full 
truth  regarding  it  is  to  be  had,  not  by  taking  each 
side  separately,  but  by  combining  both.  Thus  it 
is  a  fact  that,  from  first  to  last  in  a  sinner's  con- 
version, there  is  and  must  be  the  special  agency 
of  the  Divine  Spirit ;  but  it  is  also  a  fact  that 
there  is  in  it  a  human  activity.  The  Spirit  works  ; 
but  then  He  does  so  in  harmony  with  the*  consti- 
tution of  the  human  soul,  and  in  such  a  waj  that 
the  soul  is  not  conscious  of  His  operations  as 
anything  distinct  from  the  workings  of  its  own 
faculties.  The  Spirit  goes  before  the  truth  to 
prepare  its  way,  by  providences  and  other  means 
at  His  disposal.  The  Spirit  comes  with  the  truth 
to  give  it  power.  This  He  does  in  a  manner 
which  He  has  not  been  pleased  anywhere  to  ex- 
plain. But  still  it  is  in  connection  with  the  truth 
that  He  operates  ;  and  His  operations  are  not  of 
such  a  nature  that  the  soul  can  identify  them  at 
the  time  as  His,  and  as  apart  from  the  workings 
of  its  own  powers.  To  the  eye  of  a  spiritual  be- 
ing, God's  agency  is  conspicuous  from  the  begin- 
ning, and  the  whole  work  may  be  called  His.  To 
the  eye  of  a  man,  the  sinner  alone  is  visible,  and 
the  whole  thing  may  be  said  to  be  done  by  him- 


96  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

self.  The  full  truth  is,  that  the  man  is  working 
out  his  own  saivation,  because  God  is  working  in 
him  to  will  and  to  do  of  His  good  pleasure.  Or, 
as  Jonathan  Edwards  has  expressed  it,  the  whole 
thing  is  brought  about  by  "  GodlsjumLkinjgxdl^id 
mans  qctmgjdV'  Yet,  even  in  reference  to  God's 
working,  let  us  remember  that  He  employs  always 
appropriate  means.  The  great  end  He  has  in 
view  is  to  awaken  the  soul  to  spiritual  things, 
to  get  it  to  perceive  its  danger,  and  to  apprehend 
the  means  of  salvation  which  He  has  provided. 
Now,  by  the  dispensations  of  His  providence,  He 
may  dispose  the  soul  to  receive  the  truth  on  these 
subjects  in  many  ways.  Affliction  is  one  of  the 
most  common, — disease,  as  it  were,  ringing  the 
alarm-bell  of  the  soul,  and  rousing  it  to  face 
eternal  realities.  Thus  it  was  with  Chalmers, 
and  many  more,  in  whom  the  crisis  of  being  has 
been  as  signally  marked.  Sometimes,  again.  He 
uses  the  early  associations  of  home,  and  through 
means  of  them  procures  the  opening  of  the  heart, 
which  had  remained  shut  even  against  the  pre- 
sence of  severest  affliction.  Thus  it  was  with  the 
poor  sailor  lying  in  the  hospital  of  one  of  our 
seaports,  who  remained  unmoved  by  every  appeal 
addressed  to  him,  until  the  missionary,  perceiving 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  97 

tliat  lie  was  a  Scotsman,  sat  down  beside  his  bed 
and  sang,  to  the  fine  old  tune  of  Coleshill,  the 
Psalmist's  words,  as  rendered  in  the  metrical 
version  used  in  the  churches  and  homes  of  his 
native  land  : 

Such  pity  as  a  father  hath 

Unto  his  children  dear, 
Like  pity  shows  the  Lord  to  such 

As  worship  Him  in  fear. 

When    he    heard    the    old    familiar    strain,    he 
started  up  at  once,  and  said,  "  Who  taught  you 
that  ?     I  .haven't  heard  it  since  I  heard  my  father 
sing  it  at  family  worship."     So,  the   truth  having 
found  an  entrance  through  the  portals  of  memory, 
the  missionary  was  not  long  in  leading  him  to 
Christ.     Occasionally,  again,  the  heart  is  opened, 
and  the  man  awakened,  through  the   means   of 
natural  affection.     Thus  it  was  with  him  of  whom 
John  Ashworth  tells,  who  left  his  breakfast-table 
one  Sabbath  morning  for  a  few  minutes  to  arrange 
with  some  comrades  about  going  out  dog-fighting 
in  tho  forenoon.     When  he  returned,  he  saw  tears 
standing  in  the  eyes  of  his  little  daughter,  as  she 
sat  finishing  her  meal,  and  ready  dressed  for  Sun- 
day school.     "  What  ails  thee  ?"  said  he,  as  he 
kindly  looked  at  her.     "  I  don't  want  you  to  go 


98  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

with  these  bad  men,"  she  answered.     "  It  is  the 
Lord's  day,  and  God  will  be  sure  to  see  you." 
"Bless  the   child,"   said  he;    "how   she  talks! 
Never  mind  me,  dear,  but  go  to  school."     Still, 
however,  she  sat  in  sorrow,  and  as  the  tears  flowed 
thickly  down  her  cheeks,  she  said  again,  "  Don't 
go,  father."     "  Well,  then,"  said  he,  "  I  won't  go. 
So  go  to  the  school  with  thee,  and  be  happy." 
And  he  did  not  go,  but  in  the  evening  went  with 
her  to  public  worship  ;  and  she  found  for  him  the 
places,  for  she  was  the  better  scholar  of  the  two. 
And  by  and  by,  as  the  result  of  all  this,  he  came 
to  himself,  and  went  to  his  Father,  and  is  now  an 
honored   and  useful  member    of    the   Christian 
Church.     Nay,  sometimes  even  the  ribald  pro- 
fanity of  the  wicked  man  has  been  the  means  em- 
ployed by  G.od  to  rouse  him  to  his  higher  self. 
During  the  days  of  Whitefield  and  his  coadjutors, 
Mr.  Thorpe,  and  several  like-minded  companions 
in  Yorkshire,  undertook  to  mimic  and  travesty 
the  preaching  of  these  gi'eat  Evangelists.     One 
after  another,  they  mounted  a  table,  and  set  them- 
selves to  caricature  one  or   other  of  God's  ser- 
vants.    Mr.  Thorpe's  turn  came  last,  and,  in  the 
regardlessness  of  his  spirit,  as  he  ascended  the 
table,  he  said,  "  I  shall  beat  you  all."     The  Bible 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  99 

was  Landed  to  him.  It  opened — how,  lie  knew 
not,  but  those  who  saw  God's  side  of  the  affair, 
would  perceive  His  hand  open  it — at  Luke  xiii.,  3, 
"  Except  ye  repent,  ye  shall  all  likewise  perish." 
The  moment  he  read,  his  soul  was  impressed.  He 
saw  clearly  the  nature  and  importance  of  the  sub- 
ject ;  and  he  afterwards  said,  if  he  ever  preached 
with  the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  it  was  at 
thaf  time.  When  he  had  finished — levelled,  as  it 
were,  by  the  recoil  of  the  gun  which  he  had 
thought  to  fire  at  God's  servants — he  retired  to 
weep  over  his  sins,  and  became  in  the  end  an 
able  and  useful  minister  of  the  New  Testament, 
Or,  not  to  multiply  instances,  God  may  use  the 
ordinary  means  of  curiosity  and  th-e  preaching 
of  the  truth  to  lead  up  to  this  awakening.  So 
it  was  with  one  of  whom  I  have  been  told,  who 
was  of  excellent  moral  character,  a  zealous  ad- 
vocate of  total  abstinence,  and  a  most  intellect- 
ual man,  but,  unhappily,  also  an  unbeliever. 
Passing  along  the  street  one  Lord's-day  morn- 
ing, he  came  to  the  door  of  a  church  where  a 
minister  preached  who  was  well  known  for  his 
labors  in  the  temperance  cause,  and  he  said 
within  himself,  "  I  have  heard  of  this  man  ;  I 
should    like    to    go   in."     But   he   had  not  been 


100  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

within  a  lioiise  of  God  for  ten  years,  and  he 
felt  ashamed  to  venture.  He  went  away  fully 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  past  the  church,  but  still 
he  felt  as  if  he  must  go  back.  So  he  returned 
and  entered  the  sanctuary.  In  the  course  of  the 
sermon,  something  was  said  which  stirred  him 
to  the  very  depths.  His  knees  smote  against 
each  other.  He  sat  trembling  and  astonished. 
He  came  again.  He  heard  a  Bible-class  an- 
nounced for  a  certain  evening.  He  went  to  that. 
He  became  interested  in  the  inquiries  which 
were  there  prosecuted ;  and  at  length,  coming 
fully  to  himself,  he  went  to  his  Father,  writing 
to  the  minister  whom  God  had  used  all  through 
in  these  words  : — "  With  the  long  and  dreary 
winter  that  has  passed  away  has  gone  the  win- 
ter of  my  unbelief ;  and  while  I  attribute  this 
result  to  a  higher  than  human  power,  permit 
me  to  say  that  you  have  been  the  channel 
through  which  that  power  was  conveyed,  first 
from  the  pulpit,  and  afterwards  by  your  kind 
and  generous  sympathy,  for  which  I  hope  I 
shall  ever  be  truly  grateful."  Now,  I  have  brought 
out  these  cases  to  show  you  how  in  conversion, 
all,  from  the  human  side,  is  perfectly  natural, 
while  from  the  divine  all  is  of   God.     The  doc- 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  101 

trine  of  the  special  agency  of  the  Spirit  in  con- 
version, thus  viewed,  is  a  parallel  instance  to 
that  of  the  great  doctrine  of  the  special  provi- 
dence of  God.  It  might,  indeed,  almost  be  de- 
scribed as  special  providence  working  in  the  de- 
partment of  spiritual  things ;  and  God's  agency 
and  man's  agency  are  united  in  conversion,  just 
as  they  are  united  in  the  actions  of  every  day. 
We  cannot  be  saved  without  the  Spirit's  agency ; 
but  neither,  again,  can  the  Spirit  save  us  except 
through  our  own  activity  in  believing  .and  obey- 
ing the  truth.  The  Spirit'.s  agency  is  necessary 
to  faith  and  repentance, 'but  it  is  the  sinner  that 
believes  and  repents.  It  is  impossible  to  say 
wiiere  the  one  agency  terminates,  and  the  other 
begins.  Eather,  as  it  seems  to  me,  do  they  mu- 
tually interpenetrate  each  other,  only,  as  these  par- 
ables make  plain,  God's  seeking  always  precedes 
the  sinner's  rising. 


< 


III.  But  it  is  time  now  that  we  should  con- 
sider the  p^odigaVs  reflections  on  coming  to  himself. 
They  were  twofold — having  regard,  first,  to  him- 
self, and,  second,  to  his  father's  house. 

In  reference  to  himself,  he  said — "  I  perish 
with  hunger."      Now,  as  I  have  already  hinted. 


102  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

there  was  distinct  progress  here.  Never  before 
had  this  youth  allowed  himself  to  think  that 
death  by  starvation  was  to  be  the  issue  if  he  re- 
mained in  the  far  land;  but  so  soon  as  that 
clearly  shaped  itself  to  him,  he  took  his  resolu- 
tion to  arise.  It  is  the  same  with  men,  and 
their  return  to  God.  I  believe  if  we  could  nar- 
row down  the  choice  of  the  sinner  to  one  or 
other  of  these  two  alternatives — everlasting  de- 
struction as  the  consequence  of  guilt,  or  eternal 
salvation,  through  faith  in  Jesus  Christ — we 
should  have  no  difficulty  in  impelling  him  to  de- 
cide in  the  right  direction ;  but  because  he  per- 
sists in  believing  that  there  is  some  loophole  left 
him,  through  which  he  may  escape,  even  if  ^le 
should  -not  accept  salvation  through  Christ,  he 
continues  indifferent  to  the  statements  of  the 
gospel.  I  do  not  think  that  there  are  many  men 
who  believe  that  they  are  going  to  everlasting 
perdition.  There  are,  indeed,  multitudes  of  de- 
plorably wicked  persons ;  yet  I  cannot  think 
that  they  ever  really  consider  that  they  are  on 
the  way  to  hell.  They  have  the  feeling  that 
things  are  not  just  so  bad  with  them  as  that 
yet ;  they  fancy  that,  somehow  or  other,  they 
hardly  know  how,  in  spite  of  all  that  they  are, 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  1C3 

and  all  tliat  they  liave  done,  they  shall  still 
escape  ;  and  so  they  go  thoughtlessly  on.  They 
imagine  that  God  will  not,  as  they  say,  "  be  strict 
to  mark  iniquity  with  them  ;"  or  they  think  that 
sin  cannot  be  such  a  dreadful  thing  after  all ;  or 
they  flatter  themselves  that  they  will,  at  some 
future  period,  take  thought  and  repent ;  and 
they  say,  meanwhile,  "  There's  time  enough  yet." 
Thus  each  one  has  his  own  vague  hope  that,  af- 
ter all,  "  he  shall  not  surely  die."  So  it  is  that 
Satan  keeps  continually  repeating  the  old  lie 
wherewith  he  deluded  our  common  parents  to 
their  ruin.  But  when  the  sinner  comes  to  him- 
self, aU  these  deceptions  are  swept  away.  He 
sees  only  the  fearful  fact,  " '  I  perish.'  Away 
from  God,  I  must  be,  I  cannot  but  be,  eter- 
nally destroyed ;"  and  this,  taken  together  with 
his  belief  in  God's  offer  of  salvation,  stirs 
him  up  to  arise  and  to  return  to  his  Father. 
Awake,  O  sinner !  to  the  danger  in  which  you 
stand.  If  you  continue  as  you  are,  there  is  noth- 
ing but  destruction  before  you.  If  you  neglect 
the  great  salvation,  there  is  no  possibihty  of 
escape  for  you.  Between  two  such  alternatives, 
v>'ho  would  hesitate  as  to  his  choice  ? 

But  the  prodigal's   reflections    had  reference 


104  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

also  to  his  father's  house.  He  said — "  How 
many  hired  servants  of  my  father's  have  bread 
enough  and  to  spare  !"  Bread  ! — once  he  thought 
of  greatness  and  wealth  ; — now,  however,  he  will 
be  content  with  bread — yea,  if  he  could  only  have 
what  many  a  time  he  had  seen  his  father's  ser- 
vants lay  aside  as  not  requked  by  them,  he  would 
be  content.  There  was  enough  at  home,  if  he 
were  only  there.  Now,  similarly,  the  sinner,  in 
conversion,  comes  to  the  persuasion  that  there  is 
plenty  for  him  in  God.  If  you  ask  how  this  is 
brought  about  in  him,  I  answer,  by  his  behef  of 
the  statements  of  the  gospel ;  for  it  is  here  that 
we  must  bring  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Cross.  It 
is  possible  for  one  to  be  aroused  to  a  sense  of 
his  danger,  and  yet  go  no  further.  Many  have 
been  "  awakened,"  as  the  phrase  is,  without  being 
converted.  They  have  had  a  glimpse  of  the 
awful  truth,  that  they  were  perishing ;  but  they 
have  not  believed  the  good  news  of  salvation  in 
Jesus,  and  so  they  have  continued  in  their  sins. 
They  found  that  they  were  in  want,  but  they  did 
not  seem  to  know  that  there  was  bread  in  their 
Father's  house.  In  every  real  conversation,  how- 
ever, we  have  both  things  believed  ;  and  the  be- 
lief of  both  is  connected  with  the  Cross  of  Christ, 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  105 

for  there  the  sinner  learns  both  how  fearful  a 
thing  sin  is,  and  how  full  of  love  to  him  God  is. 
He  sees,  in  Christ's  death,  an  atonement  for 
sin  of  infinite  value,  and  unlimited  sufficiency. 
There  is  enough  in  it  to  meet  his  need — yea, 
enough  and  to  sjMve  ;  salvation,  not  for  him  alone, 
but  for  all  who  choose  to  avail  themselves  of  it ; 
and  the  belief  of  that,  coupled  with  his  appall- 
ing sense  of  present  danger  and  the  necessity, 
impels  him  to  resolve.  Let  the  sinner  take  note 
of  this,  that  he  may  be  encouraged,  not  to  go  on 
in  sin,  but  "  to  repent  and  be  converted."  There 
is  ho23e  for  him.  "  Christ  Jesus  is  the  propiti- 
ation for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world.  "  He  is 
able  to  save  unto  the  uttermost  all  that  cometh 
unto  God. by  Him,  seeing  he  ever  liveth  to  make 
intercession  for  them."  "Who  would  starve  with 
such  plenty  at  hand?  who  would  die  eternally 
with  such  life  put  in  his  offer  ?  There  is  no  stint 
in  the  provision  which  God  has  made  for  us  in 
the  gospel  feast.  There  is  enough  and  to  spare. 
Enough  for  all  the  guests,  and  yet  abundance 
besides.  "Yet  there  is  room" — room  in  the 
love  of  God's  heart ;  room  in  the  sufficiency 
of  the  work  of  Christ ;  room  in  the  Church  be- 
low ;  room  in  the  sanctuary  above  ;  room  for  sin- 


106  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

ners  of  every  age  and  degree,  and  color  and 
clime  ; — yea,  room,  O  starving  one !  for  thee,  if 
only  thou  wilt  take  thy  place  at  the  board,  and 
put  on  the  wedding  garment  which  thy  Lord  has 
furnished. 

IV.  I  dare  not  conclude  without  noticing,  how- 
ever briefly,  the  resolution  to  ivldcli  those  reflections 
led.  "  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father,  and  will 
say  unto  him.  Father,  I  have  sinned  against 
heaven  and  before  thee,  and  am  no  more  worthy 
to  be  called  thy  son.  Make  me  as  one  of  thy 
hired  servants."  This  youth  determined,  there 
and  then,  to  go  back  to  his  home-;  not,  however, 
in  a  dogged,  sullen,  defiant  spirit,  but  in  a  tho- 
roughly penitent  disposition.  He  blames  no  one 
but  himself ;  he  resolves  to  make  a  full  and  frank 
acknowledgment  of  his  folly ;  and,  instead  of 
claiming  anything  as  a  rightful  portion,  he  is  will- 
ing to  be  treated  as  a  servant.  Now,  taking 
this  as  representing  the  sinner's  repentance,  one 
or  two  things  need  to  be  noted,  as  suggested 
by  it. 

In  the  first  place,  there  is  an  unreserved  con- 
fession of  sin  :  "  Father,  I  have  sinned  against 
heaven  and  hefore   thee,"      He    does    not  soften 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  107 

matters,  and  speak  of  his  "  faults  "  or  liis  ''  fail- 
ings." He  does  not  say,  in  a  self-extenuating 
way,  "  I  have  been  a  little  wild ;"  but  he  puts 
the  plain  truth  forth  in  all  its  hideousness,  "  I 
have  sinned  r'  Neither,  again,  does  he  cast  the 
blame  on  others.  He  does  not  say,  "  So-and- 
so  led  me  astray ;"  "  If  it  had  not  been  for  the 
companions  by  whom  I  was  surrounded,  I  had 
never  come  to  this  ;"  or,  "  If  I  had  only  been  in 
other  circumstances,  I  would  have  kept  myself 
from  iniquity."  No ;  his  language  is,  " ./  have 
sinned ;  the  guilt  is  mine.  I  have  no  wish  to 
evade  it,  or  explain  it  away.  I  am  ashamed  of 
myseK." 

Yet,  once  more,  the  enormity  of  his  wicked- 
ness before  heaven  is  that  which  most  distresses 
him.  He  had  brought  many  evils  on  himself. 
He  had  inflicted  great  injuries  upon  others  ;  but 
that  which  most  burdens  him  now  is,  that  he  has 
sinned  against  God — the  Father  who  has  done  so 
much  for  him,  and  has  even,  after  all,  and,  above 
all,  sent  His  Son  into  the  world  to  make  atone- 
ment for  his  guilt.  This  is  painful  to  him  in 
the  extreme,  and  he  can  do  nothing  but  weep 
over  it ;  but  his  tears,  in  the  estimation  of  God, 
are  of  more  value  than  the  glittering  diamond, 


108  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

for  they  tell  Him  that  He  has  found  at  last  His 
loug-lost  child,  not  simply  in  the  outward  form 
that  stands  before  him,  but  also  in  the  heart  out 
of  which  this  sorrow  comes.  This  is  true  peni- 
tence. This  is  the  broken  spirit,  exhaling  an 
odor  sweeter  far  than  that  which  came  from  the 
alabaster  vase  of  spikenard  in  Mary's  hand.  This 
is  the  contrite  heart  which  the  Lord  will  not  de- 
spise. 

But,  looking  again  at  the  resolution  before  us, 
we  find  in  it  a  determination  to  personal  exer- 
tion :  "  /  luill  arise  r  The  prodigal  did  not 
wait  till  some  one  else  should  come  and  lift  him, 
and  carry  him  to  his  home.  He  was  fully  per- 
suaded that  if  ever  he  reached  his  father's  house, 
it  could  only  be  by  travelling  the  distance  for  him- 
self :  so  he  arose  and  went.  Now,  similarly  with 
the  sinner,  though  the  distance  between  him 
and  God  is  not  physical,  but  moral,  yet,  if  he 
would  be  saved,  there  must  be  the  putting  forth 
of  his  own  individual  human  agency.  He  does 
not  require  to  rise  from  the  spot  where  he  is,  and 
go  away  to  some  far  distant  country,  in  order  to 
return  to  God.  He  may  pass  through  the  whole 
transition  while  yet  he  is  in  one  and  the  same 
earthly  spot.     The  coming  is  spiritual.     It  is  the 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  109 

restoring  of  his  heart  to  God  :  the  giving  "back  of 
his  love,  and  loyalty,  and  allegiance  to  his  Heav- 
enly Father  :  the  surrender  to  God  of  the  sover- 
eignty of  his  soul  which,  in  the  outset  of  his  ca- 
reer, he  had  determined  to  retain  to  himself. 
Now,  this  restoration  of  the  soul  to  God,  this  giv- 
ing back  of  itself  to  the  Father,  is  the  soul's  own 
act ;  and  in  this  self-submission  to  Jehovah — this 
rendering  back  of  itself  by  the  soul  to  God,  as 
its  proper  possessor — we  have  the  consummation 
of  conversion.  No  doubt,  as  I  have  said,  the 
Spirit  is  in  it  all ;  yet  the  soul  gives  itself  up^  and 
we  must  be  on  our  guard  against  delaying  this 
self-renunciation  on  the  plea  of  ivaiting  for  the 
Spirit.  To  put  off,  on  this  ground,  would  be 
just  as  foolish  in  us  as  it  would  have  been  in  the 
prodigal  here  to  have  said — "  I  will  wait  till 
some  one  lifts  me  up,  and  carries  me  home." 
Multitudes,  however,  think  of  the  Spirit's  agency 
as  of  some  influence  which,  distinct  from,  and 
external  to,  themselves,  is  to  take  them,  and, 
apart  from  any  action  of  their  own,  carry  them 
into  salvation.  But  this  is  an  utter  delusion. 
The  Spirit  works  for  us  by  working  in  us,  and 
through  us ;  and  His  agency  is  not  such  as  we 
can  distinguish,  apart  from  the  common  opera- 


110  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

tion  of  our  faculties.  Hence,  if  we  wish  tlie  Spirit 
to  lead  us  to  give  back  our  souls  to  God,  we 
must  ourselves  seek  to  make  this  spiritual  sur- 
render ;  and  when  we  do,  we  shall  discover  that 
He  has  been  beforehand  with  us,  and  has  al- 
ready anticipated  us  with  His  quickening  grace. 

Finally,  here,  this  resolution  was  promptly  act- 
ed upon  :  "  He  arose  and  ivent  to  Ms  father.''  Just 
as  ho  was,  all  tattered  and  filthy,  he  went  back. 
He  did  not  say,  looking  at  his  garments  the 
while,  "  I  cannot  go  in  this  plight ;  I  must  wash 
mj^self,  and  change  my  raiment,  and  then  set  out." 
Had  he  mused  in  that  fashion,  he  would  proba- 
bly never  have  returned ;  but  he  went  as  he 
was.  So,  in  conversion,  the  sinner  gives  himsell 
back  to  God  just  as  he  is.  He  does  not  seek  to 
make  himself  better.  He  delays  not  to  work  out 
for  himself  a  robe  of  righteousness.  He  waits 
not  even  for  deeper  feelings,  or  for  more  intense 
conviction.  He  puts  himself  into  God's  hands, 
sure  that,  for  Christ's  sake.  He  will  make  him  all 
that  he  should  be.  "  Such  as  I  am,"  he  says, 
"  take  me  and  make  me  such  as  Thou  wouldst 
have  me  to  be."  This  is  the  whole  matter. 
This  only  !  but  all  this  ;  and  if  there  be  any  one 
here  to-day  moved  by  the  presentation  of  these 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  Ill 

truths,  let  me  beseecli  him  now,  where  he  is,  and 
as  he  is,  to  give  himself  back  to  the  Father,  with- 
out reservation  and  without  delay, 

"  Just  as  thou  art,  without  one  trace 
Of  love,  or  joy,  or  inward  grace, 
Or  meetness  for  the  heavenly  place , 

O  guilty  sinner,  como  I" 

"  Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  wa- 
ters, and  he  that  hath  no  money  ;  come  ye,  buy 
wine  and  milk  without  money  and  without  price. 
Wherefore  do  ye  spend  money  for  that  which  is 
not  bread*  ?  and  your  labor  for  that  wllich  satisfi- 
eth  not  ?  hearken  diligently  unto  me,  and  let  your 
soul  dehght  itself  in  fatness.  Incline  your  ear, 
and  come  unto  me  :  hear,  and  your  soul  shall 
live  ;  and  I  will  make  an  everlasting  covenant 
with  you,  even  the  sure  mercies  of  David." 
"  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy 
laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest/'  "  The  Spirit 
and  the  bride  say.  Come  ;  and  let  him  that  hear- 
eth  say.  Come.  And  let  him  that  is  athirst  come. 
And  whosoever  will,  let  him  take  the  water  of 
life  freely.*'  Spirit  of  the  Living  God !  let  some 
soul  to-day  hear  this  heavenly  home-call,  and  re- 
turn to  Thee. 


THE    PRODIGAL    SON. 


III. 

THE      RETURN. 


"  And  he  arose,  and  came  to  his  father.  But  when  he  was  yet  a  great 
way  off,  his  father  saw  him,  and  had  compassion,  and  ran,  and  fell  on  his 
neck,  and  kissed  him. 

"And  the  son  said  unto  him,  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  Heaven, 
and  in  thy  sight,  and  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son. 

"  But  the  father  said  to  his  servants,  Bring  forth  the  best  robe,  and  put 
it  on  him  ;  and  put  a  ring  on  his  hand,  and  shoes  on  his  feet  : 

"  And  bring  hither  the  fatted  calf,  and  kill  it  ;  and  let  us  eat,  and  be 
merry  : 

"For  this  my  son  was  dead,  and  is  ahve  again  ;  he  was  lost,  and  is 
found.    And  they  began  to  be  merry." 

Luke,  xv.,  20-24. 


THE    PRODIGAL    SON. 


HI. 

THE  KETUKN. 


Many  years  have  passed  since  the  prodigal's  de- 
parture from  his  father's  house,  but  all  things 
there  have  continued  outwardly  as  they  were. 
The  same  air  of  prosperity  is  about  the  place. 
In  spring-time  the  carol  of  the  plough-boy,  and 
in  harvest  the  song  of  the  reaper,  have  been 
heard  as  before.  If  anything,  the  old  people 
have  grown  more  venerable  in  aspect ;  their  gait 
has  become  more  stooping,  and  their  movements 
are  slower  ;  while  the  wrinkles  on  their  fore- 
heads have  deepened,  and  grey  hairs  are  here 
and  there  among  their  locks ;  but  the  same  neat 
attention  to  appearance  characterizes  them  both, 
and  a  calm  contentment  sits  upon  their  faces. 


116  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

Their  son  lias  conducted  himself  with  decorum, 
and  by  his  energy  and  care  has  relieved  his  fa- 
ther from  all  anxiety  as  to  worldly  things  ;  and 
their  servants  have  been  so  long  beneath  their 
roof,  that  they  have  come  to  regard  themselves, 
and  to  be  regarded  by  others,  as  members  of  the 
family.  To  the  casual  visitor  everything  would 
seem  delightful,  and  many  might  have  envied  the 
gladness  that  appeared  to  dwell  among  them.  But 
external  things  are  no  sure  indication  of  that 
which  lies  beneath  them  ;  for,  even  in  this  home, 
there  is  a  skeleton.  A  sorrow,  all  the  heavier  that 
it  is  never  spoken,  lies  upon  the  parents'  hearts, 
revealed  only  by  the  long-fixed,  abstracted  gaze 
that  comes  occasionally  across  their  countenances, 
or  by  the  heavy,  deep-drawn  sigh,  which,  in 
thoughtful  moments,  one  or  other  heaves.  No  in- 
genious questioning  of  yours. will  evoke  their  con- 
fidence, or  draw  from  them  a  description  of  their 
cross  ;  but,  when  you  go,  at  eventide,  to  the  ser- 
vants' hall,  you  may  hear  the  elder  among  them 
whispering  to  the  younger  something  about  mas- 
ter's "  other "  son  ;  and  when  you  ask  them 
wdiat  they  mean,  tliey  will  tell  you  how,  long  ago, 
there  was  a  younger  son  in  the  family — the  idol  of 
them  all.     They  will  never  weary  of  praising  his 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  117 

frank  opeu-lieartedness,  so  different  from  the  stiff 
preciseness  of  bis  brother ;  thej  will  rehearse  to 
you  the  jokes  he  made,  and  the  songs  he  used  to 
sing,  and  the  kind  things  he  did  to  all  about  him. 
They  will  relate,  mayhap,  how,  when  one  of  them 
was  seized  with  sudden  and  dangerous  illness, 
it  was  he  who  rode  through  the  pelting  rain  to 
hasten  for  the  medical  man ;  it  was  he  who  sat  up 
through  the  dreary  night-hours,  seeking  to 
soothe  the  sufferer ;  it  was  he  who  was  always 
ready  with  his  help  and  his  hand — the  darling  of 
the  family,  the  pride  of  the  country-side.  Then, 
with  the  gathering  tear  in  the  eye,  they  will  tell 
how  something  took  him,  they  never  found  out 
precisely  what ;  and  he  left  the  house  and  went 
away,  no  one  knew  whither,  and  had  never  been 
heard  of  since.  Then  they  will  assure  you  that 
for  all  so  quiet  and  calm  as  he  looked,  "  master  " 
had  never  been  the  same  since  he  had  gone,  but 
went  about  the  house,  seeming  to  have  lost  a 
part  of  himself ;  and  that  even  yet,  day  after  day, 
he  would  go  to  the  hill-top  yonder,  and  look  this 
way  and  that  way,  as  if  he  were  expecting  him 
to  come  again  ;  but  that  he  never  named  his  name, 
and  they  only  knew  how  keen  were  his  feelings  ia 
the  matter  from  one  constant  petition  in  his  family 


118  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

prayer — "  That  God  might  bring  the  wanderer 
home." 

Ah  !  how  many  houses  in  the  land  have  just 
such  a  skeleton  within  as  this  !  Would  God  that 
in  eacli  case  the  issue  were  as  it  was  here  !  For, 
lo  !  rounding  the  corner  of  the  lane,  the  long- 
lost  son  is  seen  "  afar  off."  Many  a  weary  foot 
he  has  travelled,  sustained  by  the  prospect  of 
reaching  home  at  last ;  yet  when  at  length  the  old 
familiar  place  comes  first  into  his  view,  strange 
misgivings  fill  his  heart.  Hope  spurred  him  on 
till  then,  but  now  fears  begin  to  work.  "  Will  my 
father  receive  me  after  all  ?"  "  How  can  I  face 
him  in  this  pitiful  plight  ?"  "  Would  it  not  be 
better  to  go  back  ?"  These  and  kindred  ques- 
tionings arise  within  him,  and  he  lingers  in  timid 
irresolution.  But  before  he  is  aware,  his  falter- 
ing feelings  are  banished  in  a  way  at  once  the 
most  unexpected  and  the  most  effectual.  For  his 
father  had  been,  as  his  custom  was,  upon  the 
outlook  for  him  ;  and  though  his  raiment  was 
ragged,  and  his  face  haggard,  and  his  whole  ap- 
pearance changed,  there  was  still  that  about  him, 
in  walk,  or  shape,  or  feature,  by  which  at  once 
the  old  man  recognized  him.  And  he  ran  and 
embraced  him,  and  kissed  him.     There  were  no 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  119 

Tvords  spoken  on  his  side  ;  for,  when  tlie  heart  is 
fullest,  it  can  speak  only  through  tears.   Like  Ja- 
cob with  Joseph,  "  he  fell  on  his  neck,  and  wept 
a  good  while."     No  taunt  about  the  past  was  ut- 
tered ;  no  gibe  escaped  him  about  the  present 
appearance  of  his  son.     It  was  enough  that  it 
was  he  come  home  again ;  and  he  would  take 
him,  not  to  his  house  merely,  but  to  his  heart. 
In  that  embrace  the  prodigal's  misgivings  melt- 
ed all  aAvay.     There  was  no  question  now  about 
his  reception.     He  had  been  already  welcomed  ; 
and  so  with  a  deeper  feeling  than  he  had  known 
when  he  made  the  resolution  to  employ  them,  he 
repeated  the  words,  "  Father,  I  have  sinned  against 
heaven  and  in  thy  sight,  and  am  no  more  icorthy  to 
he  called,  thy  son,''  but  he  did  not  add,  "  Make  me 
as   one   of  thy  hired  servants."     That,  he   felt, 
would  have  been  to  insult  the  generous  affection 
of  his  father,  who  had  already  taken  him  back 
into  the  old  place  of  son  ;  so,  gladly  and  grate- 
fully, he  accepts  the  kindness,  and  goes  forward 
with  him  to  the  dwelling.     When  they  reached 
the  house,  the  order  was  given  by  the  father  to 
the  servants,  "  Bring  forth  the  best  robe  and  put 
it  on  him  ;  and  put  a  ring  on  his  hand,  and  shoes 
on  his  feet ;  and  bring  hither  the  fatted  calf,  and 


; 


120  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

let  US  eat  and  be  merrj  ;"  while,  that  all  may 
linow  the  reason  of  this  unwonted  joy,  the  pro- 
clamation was  made,  "  For  this  my  son  was 
dead,  and  is  alive  again  :  he  was  lost,  and  is 
found." 

Not  always  thus,  however,  are  returning  chil- 
dren received  by  earthly  parents  ;  and  before  I 
pass  to  the  spiritual  meaning  of  this  portion  of 
the  j^arable,  permit  me  to  point  from  it  a  moral 
for  the  guidance  of  those  who  are  heads  of  fami- 
lies among  us.  We  who  are  in  that  position  have 
two  opposite  dangers  to  avoid.  On  the  one  hand, 
we  have  to  watch  against  that  laxity  of  discipline 
whichi  permits  children  to  do  just  as  they  please  ; 
and,  on  the  other,  we  have  to  keep  from  that 
stem  and  unrelenting  severity  which  visits  every 
fault  with  rigid  punishment,  and  presents  a  cold, 
unfeeling  aspect  to  the  child.  It  is  hard  to  say 
whicli  of  these  two  evils  is  the  more  pernicious  ; 
but,  in  general,  we  are  prone  to  fall  into  the  for- 
mer when  our  children  are  very  young  ;  and,  into 
the  latter  when  they  grow  older,  and  verge  to- 
ward manhood  and  womanhood.  Now  it  is  espe- 
cially the  extreme  of  sternness  which  is  reproved 
by  the  conduct  of  the  father  here  described.  We 
ought  to  recognize  the  birth  of  individuahty  in 


THE   PRODIGAL   SON.  121 

I  our  cliildren ;  and,  as  they  advance  in  years,  we 

Ionglit  to  feel  that  we  are  to  rule  them  through  the 
intellect  and  the  affections,  and  not  by  the  force 
of  mere  authority.  There  is  a  parental  intoler- 
ance which  is  as  harsh  and  overbearing,  and  to 
the  full  as  disastrous,  as  any  infringement  of  civil 
or  religious  liberty  by  a  government  can  ever  be. 
And,  in  our  desire  to  rule  as  the  family  governors, 
we  ought  never  to  forget  tlie  kind  of  rule  which 
we  are  to  exercise.  I  willingly  admit  that,  even 
in  the  case  of  grown-up  sons  and  daughters,  there 
may  be  offences  committed  which  require  that  we 
should  show  displeasure  ;  but  we  should  beware 
of  so  showing  it,  as  to  drive  them  from  our  homes 
at  the  very  time  when  most  they  need  to  feel  the 
influence  of  our  love,  and  to  be  regulated  by  the 
force  of  our  example.  I  have  heard  of  a  minister 
of  the  gospel  turning  one  of  his  sons  out  of  doors 
for  nothing  worse  than  such  pranks  as  lads,  in  the 
exuberance  of  their  spirits,  are  prone  to  indulge 
in.  The  mother  went  with  him  for  a  portion  of 
his  way,  and  talked  and  prayed  with  him  as  only 
a  mother  can  ;  and,  in  his  case,  the  issue  was  that 
he  rose  to  a  position  of  honor,  not  only  in  the 
nation,  but  in  the  Church.  Still,  if  it  had  been 
otherwise,  and  the  youth  had  gone  to  ruin,  would 


122  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

not  his  father  have  been  chargeable  in  some  de- 
gree with  the  murder  of  his  soul  ?  The  skillful 
angler,  when  he  hooks  a  noble  fish,  is  never  too  j 
anxious  to  bring  it  to  the  shore.  He  gives  it  line\{ 
and  lets  it  run  awhile,  until  at  length,  weary  with 
its  splashing,  it  becomes  an  easy  prey.  So  in 
fishing  for  men,  and  especially  for  our  own  chil- 
dren, we  must  not  make  the  cord  too  tight,  lest  it 
break,  and  they  go  far  from  us ;  but  with  a  holy 
guile,  and  with  a  loving  tenderness,  while  we  still 
keep  hold  of  them,  we  must  give  them  line,  only 
thereby  in  the  end  to  bring  them  more  securely 
to  the  Lord.  So  again,  when  a  son  or  a  daughter 
has  gone  astray,  and  comes  back  to  us,  we  should 
act  as  this  father  did.  We  should  not  upbraid, 
or  sneer,  or  ridicule,  or  condemn.  We  may  be 
sure  that  there  has  been  enough  of  bitterness  in 
the  conscience  of  the  offender,  before  the  mind 
was  made  up  to  come  to  us  again.  The  heart 
and  the  home  should  be  opened  as  before,  and 
nothing  should  come  from  us  that  would  painfully 
remind  the  prodigal  of  past  iniquity.  How  deeply 
some  men  have  sinned  at  once  against  their  own 
better  nature  and  against  God,  by  adopting  an 
opposite  course!  I  have  been  told  of  a  father 
coming  into  a  house  where,  unknown  to  him,  his 


THE  PEODIGAL  SON.  123 

daughter  was  at  the  moment  a  guest ;  and,  though 
her  heart  was  yearning  for  a  kindly  word  from 
him,  there  was  nothing  but  a  cold,  silent  greeting 
accorded  to  her.  Why  ?  because  she  had  given 
her  heart  and  her  hand  to  a  good  man,  whose 
only  fault,  even  in  her  father's  eyes,  was  that  he 
was  poor.  What  an  idea  that  man  must  have  of 
God,  if  this  be  his  notion  of  fatherhood !  and 
what  a  dread  that  shrinking  one  must  have  of 
Jehovah,  if  her  earthly  father  is  to  be  to  her  a 
type  of  the  Father  in  Heaven  !  A  few  years  ago 
it  was  stated  in  the  English  newspapers  that  a 
Bishop,  who  had  died  possessed  of  thousands, 
had  deliberately  declined  to  leave  a  portion  to  a 
daughter,  simply  on  the  ground  that  she  had 
married,  against  his  will,  a  poor  clergyman  of  the 
very  Church  of  which  he  was  a  dignitary !  Nor 
was  he  content  with  that  ;  but  in  his  will,  and 
with  his  own  account  in  view,  he  actually  vindi- 
cated his  conduct  on  the  score  of  justice  and  of 
duty.  Alas  for  us,  if  God  had  thus  inexorably 
cut  us  off  from  all  hope  of  inheritance  !  Since, 
then,  such  paltry  grounds  as  these  are,  in  some 
cases,  sufficient  to  create  implacable  resentment 
in  a  parent's  heart,  we  need  not  be  surprised  to 
find  tbat  frequently,  when  sin  has  been  commit- 


124  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

ted,  tlie  father's  house  is  shut  against  the  of- 
fender. "  He  shall  never  darken  my  door  again  ;"  or, 
"  I  will  have  notldng  more  to  do  ivith  her,  she  has  made 
her  own  bed,  and  must  lie  upon  it''  These  are 
expressions,  alas  !  which  are  sometimes  heard 
from  those  who  have  what  they  call  "  ill-doing  " 
children.  But  do  they  ever  think  how  much  the 
knowledge  that  they  are  thus  unrelenting  does  to 
drive  the  poor  wanderer  into  more  terrible  ini- 
quity ?  or  how,  perhaps,  their  cruel  harshness 
may  even  keep  the  prodigal  from  turning  to  God  ? 
— as  he  says,  "  If  my  father  will  not  hearken 
to  me,  how  can  I  hope  that  God  will  forgive 
me  ?"  Oh  !  let  us  remember  that  "  WE  ARE 
SAVED  BY  HOPE,"  not  by  fear.  You  may  bring 
your  child  back  to  rectitude  by  giving  him 
ground  to  hope  for  something  from  your  affec- 
tion ;  you  v/ill  never  'reform  him  by  making  him 
afraid  of  you.  The  matron  of  a  female  educa- 
tional hospital  in  Edinburgh  told  me,  recently,  a 
most  interesting  history.  One  of  her  scholars, 
after  she  had  left  the  hospital,  fell  into  evil 
courses,  and  became  openly  abandoned  ;  hearing 
of  her  case,  my  friend  tracked  her  from  one  den 
of  infamy  to  another,  braving  dangers  which,  for 
a  Christian  lady,  are  more  terrible  than  the  dead- 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  125 

liest  charge  is  to  a  soldier.  At  length  she  found 
her  ;  and,  after  long  dealing  with  her,  in  which 
she  was  aided  by  a  devoted  minister  of  Christ, 
and  blessed,  as  she  believes,  by  the  Holy  Spirit, 
she  succeeded  in  taking  her  to  her  mother's 
house,  in  a  quiet  rural  retreat.  Now,  just  sup- 
pose, for  a  moment,  that  after  all  the  exertions  of 
these  friends,  the  mother  had  said,  "  No,  she  shall 
not  come  here.  I  loill  not  have  my  household  polluted 
hy  her  presence^  What  would  have  been  the  ef- 
fect upon  the  girl  ?  Would  it  not  have  sent  her 
back  again  to  sin  ?  and  would  not  she,  from 
whom  she  had  the  greatest  reason  to  expect  af- 
fection, have  been,  in  that  case,  the  cause  of  her 
ultimate  ruin  ?  As  it  was,  however,  the  mother, 
like  the  father  here,  "kissed  the  past  into  for  getful- 
ness,''  and,  without  upbraiding  of  any  sort,  took 
her  to  her  home  once  more.  Thus  it  should  al- 
ways  be  ;  for  if  we  would  hold  our  children  back 
from  sin,  or  bring  them  again  from  the  evil 
ways  into  which  they  may  have  fallen,  we  must 
bind  them  by  the  spell,  and  draw  them  by  the 
magnetism  of  love.  Let  us  make  home  attract- 
ive by  the  sweet  influences  of  affection  ;  so  shall 
we  best  preserve  our  young  people  from  going 
astray  ;  and,  when  they  have  fallen,   let  us  be 


.'^ 


126  THE  LOST  FOUND., 

sure  that  only  tenderness  and  affection  will  ever 
lift  them  up  again. 

/  "Forget  not  thou  hast  often  sinned, 
C,  And  sinful  yet  must  be  ; 

/'  Deal  gently  with  the  erring  one, 
■  As  thy  God  hath  dealt  with  thee." 

/ 

It  is  time,  however,  that  we  should  look  at  the 
spiritual  meaning  of  this  portion  of  the  parable ; 
and  here  the  question  presents  itself,  What  are 
we  to  understand  by  the  reception  given  by  the 
father  to  the  returning  prodigal?  The  answer 
may  be  given  in  a  single  sentence, — It  is  the 
welcome  given  to  the  repentant  sinner  by  God 
the  Father.  But  while  this  is  the  true  principle 
of  interpretation,  some  things  must  be  added  at 
once  to  prevent  misconception,  and  to  bring  out 
more  vividly  the  truths  which  are  intended  to  be 
symbolized  by  the  incidents  here  recorded. 

And,  in  the  first  place,  when  we  read  of  the 
prodigal  being  a  great  way  off,  and  so  are  led  to 
think  of  his  return  as  a  long  and  toilsome  journey, 
we  are  not  to  suppose  that  conversion  is  neces- 
sarily a  protracted  process.  The  coming  back,  of 
course,  in  the  parable  must  correspond  to  the 
departure  into  the  far  land ;  and  though  frequently 


THE   PRODIGAL  SON.  127 

there  is  a  considerable  time  of  anxiety  and  strug- 
gle between  the  moment  of  awakening  and  the 
time  when  the  soul  finds  joy  and  peace  in  believ- 
ing, yet  this  dark  middle-passage  is  by  no  means 
essential.  Katlier  it  is  the  result  either  of  faulty 
views  as  to  the  way  of  salvation,  or  of  a  want  of 
faith  in  the  truth  as  it  is  presented  to  the  sinner. 
There  was  no  such  long  interval  between  convic- 
tion and  conversion  in  the  case  of  those  who  were 
born  again  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  or  in  that  of 
Saul  of  Tarsus,  or  in  that  of  the  Philippian  jailer ; 
and  I  cannot  but  think  that,  unintentionally  of 
course,  much  harm  has  been  done  in  this  matter 
by  the  records  of  some  Christian  biographies,  and 
even  by  such  an  admirable  allegory  as  "  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress."  No  doubt  the  representa- 
tions given  are  true  to  actual  experience  in  many 
instances  ;  but  all  such  experiences  spring  from  an 
unwillingness  on  the  part  of  individuals  to  submit 
themselves  at  once  to  the  righteousness  of  God, 
and  perhaps,  also,  from  an  imperfect  understand- 
ing by  them  of  the  real  nature  of  the  gospel.  We 
ought  not,  therefore,  to  imagine  that  such  cases 
are  normal  instances,  and  that  every  conversion 
to  be  genuine  must  be  in  every  respect  like  them. 
The  distance  at  which  the    sinner    stands   from 


128  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

God  is  spiritual,  not  material ;  and  wliensoever 
tlie  soul  gives  itself  up  to  Jeliovali  to  be  saved, 
in  His  way,  tlirougli  Jesus  Christ,  that  is  the 
moment  of  conversion.  It  may  be  long,  in  many 
cases  it  has  been  long,  after  moral  thoughtfulness 
and  spiritual-  anxiety  have  been  produced,  before 
the  individual  comes  to  this  unreserved  submis- 
sion. But  it  need  not  be  long,  and  it  should  not 
be  long.  Nay,  it  would  not  be  long  if  the  gospel, 
in  its  freeness  and  fullness,  were  by  the  soul 
clearly  understood  and  thoroughly  believed.  The 
way  is  prolonged  by  the  fact  that  the  sinner 
either  does  not  know,  or  will  not  believe  the 
glad  tidings  of  salvation  through  the  crucified 
Redeemer.  On  this  point  I  cannot  refrain  from 
reproducing  an  anecdote  which  I  heard  one 
evening  in  conversation  from  the  lips  of  Mr. 
Spurgeon.  An  earnest  young  evangelist  on  his 
way  one  morning  from  Granton  to  Edinburgh, 
overtook  a  Newhaven  fishwife  carrying  her  baS' 
ket  to  the  market.  Anxious  to  do  some  good, 
he  said  to  her,  "  There  you  go  with  your  burden 
on  your  back.  Once  I  had  a  heavier  load  than 
that,  but,  thank  God,  I  have  got  rid  of  it  now." 
"  Oh,"  she  replied,  "  you  mean  the  burden  that 
Jn]\n  Banyan  speaks  of;  I  know  all  about  that ; 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  129 

but  I  have  got  rid  of  mine  many   and    many  a 
year   ago."     "  I  am   happy  to  hear   of  it,"    said 
the  evangelist.     "  Yes,"  she  answered ;  "  but  do 
you  know  I  don't  think  that  man  Evangelist  was 
a   right  preacher    of  the  gospel  at   all.      When 
Christian  asked  him  where  he  was  to  go,  he  said, 
Do  you  see  yonder  wicket-gate?      He  said   he 
didn't,  and  it  was  no  wonder.     He  asked  again. 
Do  you  see  yonder  shining  light  ?  and  he  said  he 
did  ;  and  then  Evangelist  dkected  him  to  make 
for  that.     Now,  what   business   had  he  to  speak 
either   about  the   shining    light  or    the   wicket- 
gate  ?     Couldn't  he  have  pointed  him  at  once  to 
the  Redeemer's  cross  ?     Christian  never  did  lose 
his    burden    till    he    saw    that    cross ;    and   he 
might   have  seen   it    sooner    if   Evangelist    had 
known  his  business  better.     Much  good  he  got, 
too,  by  making  for  the  shining  light !     Wh^^,  be- 
fore h'e  knew  where  he  was,  he  was  floundering 
in  the   Slough    of   Despond  ;  and  if  it   had  not 
been  for  the  man  Help,  he  would  never  have  got 
out."     "  What !"  said  the  evangelist  to  her,  "  were 
you  never  in  the   Slough   of  Despond  ?"     "  Ay, 
many  a    time,    many  a   time,"    was   the    reply ; 
"  but  let   me   tell  you,  young   man,  it's  a  liantel 
easier  to    get   through    that    slough    with  your 


130  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

burden  off,  than  with  your  burden  on  1"  Now, 
though  as  a  record  of  what  often  actually  hap- 
pens, and  of  what  really  occurred  in  his  own  his- 
tory, the  immortal  allegorist  has  given  us  a  truth- 
ful portraiture,  the  Christian  fishwife  was  in  the 
right ;  for  the  moment  a  sinner  rightly  appre- 
hends and  thoroughly  believes  the  doctrine 
of  the  cross,  he  loses  his  sin- burden  ;  and 
this  may  be  after  no  painfully  protracted 
process  of  agony  and  inward  conflict.  In 
point  of  fact,  awakening  conversion,  and  peace 
may  be  all  but  simultaneous,  and  the  soul  may 
come  to  a  full  knowledge  of  its  guilt  almost  at  the 
same  moment  that  it  embraces  the  Saviour  whom 
God  has  provided.  Understand,  therefore,  it  is 
not  needed  that  you  go  through  a  long  series  of 
terrible  experiences,  called  by  some  old  divines 
"latv-worJc  /'  but  you  may,  where  you  are  and  as 
you  are,  enter  into  peace  by  simplj^  accepting 
deliverance  through  the  crucified  Redeemer. 

Again,  when  w^e  read  that  the  father  saw  his 
son  "  a  great  way  off,  and  had  compassion  on  him, 
and  ran  and  fell  on  his  neck  and  kissed  him," 
we  are  not  to  imagine  that  God  at  such  a  time 
comes  to  the  sinner  in  any  special  and  peculiar 
manner  other  than  that  set  before  us  in    the 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  131 

gospel.  Admirably  has  one  said  here — "  The 
coming  out  of  the  father  to  meet  his  son  figur- 
atively exhibits  the  sending  of  the  Son."  "^  AH  \ 
the  way  to  the  Cross  of  Calvary  has  God  come,  j 
running  to  meet  sinners.  What  a  long  way  that 
is,  who  can  tell  ?  for  who  can  measure  the  dis- 
tance from  the  throne  of  glory  to  the  dust  of 
death  ?  Tliat  cross  is  the  meeting-place  be- 
tween the  righteous  God  and  the  repentant  pro- 
digal. In  Christ  God  has  come  in  infinite 
compassion,  showing  how  He  can  be  a  just  God 
and  a  Saviour  ;  and  when  we  grasp  that  cross 
in  simple  faith,  it  is  then  that  He  embraces  us 
and  takes  us  home  to  his  heart.  "  In  Christ," 
the  Father  has  come  as  far  as  He  righteously 
can  come  to  save  sinners ;  and  when  the  sinner 
is  by  faith  "  in  Christ  "  also,  then  is  he  received 
by  God.  Hence  the  action  of  the  Father,  as 
portrayed  in  this  parable,  is  only  a  pictorial  re- 
presentation of  the  truth  Paul  proclaims  as  the 
ministry  of  reconciliation,  to  wit,  that  "  God  was 
in  Christ,  reconciling  the  world  unto  Himself, 
not  hnputing  their  trespasses  unto  them ;  "  and 


Von  Gerlach,  quoted  by  Stier  in  his  commentary  on  this 


132  THE   LOST  FOUND. 

concerning  which  he  sajs,  "Now,  then,  we  are 
ambassadors  for  Christ,  as  though  God  did  be- 
seech you  by  ns  ;  we  pray  you  in  Christ's  stead, 
be  ye  reconciled  to  God.  For  he  hath  made 
him  to  be  sin  for  us,  who  knew  no  sin  ;  that  we 
might  be  made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  Him." 
In  Him  ;  mark  that.  Till  we  are  "  in  Him  "  God 
has  not  met  us;  but  when  we  unite  ourselves 
to  Him  by  simple  trust,  then  we,  too,  are  "in 
Him,"  and  the  Father  embraces  ns,  and  falls  up- 
on our  necks  and  kisses  us. 

But  now,  having  made  these  needful  qualifica- 
tions, let  us  seek  to  discover  what  is  involved  in 
the  reception  here  described,  the  orders  given  to 
the  servants,  and  the  banquet  subsequent  thereto. 

The  reception  indicates  loving  and  complete 
restoration  to  the  position  which  has  been  for- 
feited by  sin.  The  father  uttered  no  taunting 
word ;  but  his  whole  procedure  showed  that  he 
took  back  his  son  into  his  affection  and  into  his 
place  ui  the  family.  Now,  similarly,  God  "  up- 
braideth  not."  When,  among  men,  one  goes 
against  a  father's  or  a  friend's  advice,  and  brings 
upon  himself  the  evils  which  had  been  described 
as  sure  to  follow  his  projected  course,  the  tempta- 
tion is  very  strong — usually,  indeed,  too  strong  to 


u 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  133 

be  resisted — to  say,  "  I  told  you  so.  You  have 
deserved  all  that  has  come  upon  you.  You  have 
nobody  to  blame  but  yourself."  But  nothmg  of 
this  sort  comes  from  God  to  the  repenting  sinner. 
TlifiLpa&t  is  past.  God  forgets  as  well  as  forgives. 
"We  might,  indeed,  almost  be  afraid  to  use  such  a 
term  regarding  Him,  but  He  has  used  it  himself. 
He  says,  "  I  will  not  remember  thy  sins  ;"  nay,  as 
if  to  impress  vividly  on  our  minds  that  nothing  of 
upbraiding  will  ever  come  from  Him  to  us,  the 
prophet  says  (Micah  vii.  19),  "  Thou  wilt  cast  all 
their  sins  into  the  depths  of  the  sea ;"  and  Heze- 
kiah,  realizing  this  truth  from  the  human  side, 
says  to  Jehovah  (Isaiah  xxxviii.  17),  "  Thou  hast 
cast  all  my  sins  behind  thy  back."  Wondrous 
truth  this,  that  when  God  receives  us.  He  makes 
no  reference  to  the  past,  nor  in  any  way  whatever 
j)ainfully  reminds  us  of  our  ingratitude  and  dis- 
obedience. Truly,  when  we  think  of  it,  we  may 
say  with  David,  in  the  first  joy  of  his  own  fresh 
forgiveness,  "  Blessed  is  he  whose  transgression 
is  forgiven,  whose  sin  is  covered.  Blessed  is  the 
man  unto  whom  the  Lord  imputeth  not  iniquity, 
and  in  whose  spirit  there  is  no  guile." 

But  though  God  does  not  upbraid  the  returning 
sinner  with  his  guilt,  we  must  not  suppose  that 


134  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

the  penitent  himself  does  not  feel  it  keenly.  Nay, 
rather,  the  loving-kindness  of  his  Father  only 
makes  him  all  the  more  sensible  of  the  heinons- 
ness  of  his  iniquity.  Observe,  it  was  after  the 
embrace  of  the  father,  not  before  it,  that  the  pro- 
digal sobbed  out  his  confession.  He  did  not  say 
within  himself,  "  It  is  all  right.  He  has  taken  me 
back  wdthout  a  word,  and  there  is  now  no  need 
for  me  to  say  a  syllable  about  my  folly  ;  so  I  will 
not  use  the  w^ords  which  I  had  resolved  to  em- 
ploy." No ;  for  this  new  and  unexpected  love 
{  made  him  feel  more  intensely  than  ever  what  a 
fool  he  had  been,  and  how  miserably  he  had  mis- 
understood his  father.  Hence,  though  he  had  been 
sincere  when  first  he  thought  of  making  a  confes- 
sion, he  makes  it  now  with  a  depth  and  a  fervor  to 
which  his  heart  had  been  heretofore  a  stranger. 
Now,  it  is  quite  similar  with  the  penitent.  At  no 
time  does  he  feel  the  heinousness  of  his  sin  so 
much,  as  when  he  is  rejoicing  in  God's  forgiving 
love.  This  is  indeed  the  glory  of  the  gospel, 
that,  though  it  proclaims  pardon,  it  does  so  in 
such  a  way  that,  in  the  very  act  of  believing  the 
proclamation  and  accejDting  the  forgiveness,  the 
sinner  sees  and  hates  his  iniquity  as  he  never  did 
before.     Nor  need  this  astonish  us ;  for  the  gos- 


THE   PKODIGAL   SON.  135 

pel  shows  US  more  thorouglilj  the  heart  of  that 
Father  whom  we  have  shghted ;  and  while  faith 
in  it  may  keep  us,  yea,  must  keep  us,  from  desir- 
ing to  be  like  "  one  of  his  hired  servants,"  it  wdll 
also  lead  us  all  the  more  earnestly  to  sob  out  the 
confession,  "  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  hea- 
ven, and  in  thy  sight,  and  am  no  more  w^orthy  to 
be  called  thy  son." 

The  orders  given  to  the  servants,  "  to  put  the 
best  robe  "  on  the  prodigal,  and  "  to  put  a  ring  on 
his  hand,  and  shoes  on  his  feet,"  were  designed  to 
give  to  the  returned  one  the  means  of  occupying  the 
position  and  performing  the  duties  to  w^hich  he  had 
been  restored.  The  gift  of  the  robe  reminds  us  of 
the  words  of  Zechariah  regarding  the  vision  of  Jo- 
shua, in  the  third  chapter  of  his  prophecies  :  "Noio 
Joshua  toas  clothed  icith  filthy  garments,  and  stood 
hefore  the  angel.  And  he  ansivered  and  spake 
unto  those  that  stood  hefore  him,  saying,  Take 
away  the  filthy  garments  from  him.  And  unto 
him  he  said,  Behold,  I  have  caused  thine  iniquity 
to  pass  from  thee,  and  I  tvill  clothe  thee  tvith 
change  of  raiment.  And  I  said.  Let  them  set 
a  fair  mitre  upon  his  head.  So  they  set  a  fair 
mitre  upon  his  head,  and  clothed  him  ivith 
garinents.       And    the    angel    of   tJie    Lord    stood 


136  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

%."*  The  ring,  again,  recalls  to  our  remem- 
brance the  honor  done  to  Joseph  by  Pharaoh, 
when  the  king  "  took  off  Ms  ring  from  his  hand 
and  put  it  tqoon  Joseph's  hand,  and  arrayed  him 
in  vestments  of  fine  linen,  and  put  a  chain  of 
gold  about  his  neck  /"t  while  the  shoes  were 
designed  to  be  a  badge  of  sonship,  for  the  slave 
was  not  permitted  to  have  sandalled  feet.  Every- 
thing here  is  thus  in  keeping  with  the  customs 
of  Oriental  life  ;  but  in  giving  a  spiritual  inter- 
pretation, it  is  difficult  to  say  Avhether  we  should 
be  content  with  regarding  the  particulars  in  the 
0  I  ^^^,  aggregate  as  a  description  of  the  fullness  of  the 
restoration  to  sonship,  to  which  I  have  already 
adverted,  or  whether  we  should  take  each  sepa- 
rately, as  denoting  some  individual  blessing  of  the 
gospel.  No  doubt  the  former  is  the  correct  prin- 
ciple of  expression ;  yet,  it  requires  an  effort  to 
resist  the  temptation  to  see  in  the  "  best  robe  " 
the  emblem  of  the  Redeemer's  righteousness, 
clothed  in  which  the  believer  becomes  "  comely 
with  His  comeliness  put  upon  him  ; "  in  "  the 
ring,  "  the  token  of  assurance,  or,  perhaps,  of 
that   "  sealing  of    the    Spirit    until    the    day    of 

*  Zechariah,  iii.  3-5.  t  Genesis  xli.  42. 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  137 

redemption,"  of  wliicli  Paul  speaks ;  and  in  the 
"  shoes,"  that  "  preparation  "  or  readiness  "  of 
the  gospel  of  peace,"  which  is  mentioned  by  the 
apostle  in  his  enumeration  of  the  various  pieces 
of  the  Christian  armor,  and  by  which  the  child 
of  God  is  fitted  for  "  walking  up  and  down  in 
His  name,"  and,  "running  in  the  way  of  His 
commandments."  But  without  unduly  pressing 
these  analogies,  it  is  more  satisfactory  to  rest  in 
the  general  truth  intended  to  be  illustrated,  which 
undo.ubtedly  is,  that  though  his  former  por- 
tion had  been  sinfully  squandered,  the  prodigal 
was  restored,  not  only  to  his  father's  love,  but 
also  to  his  place  in  the  family ;  and  this  just 
means  that  the  believing  sinner  is  taken  back 
into  God's  favor,  and  replaced  in  the  position 
which  he  would  have  occupied  if  he  had  never 
fallen. 

But  what  is  the  spiritual  meaning  of  the  feast? 
Some  look  upon  the  fatted  calf  as  the  emblem 
of  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  ;  others  view  it  as 
symbolizing  the  Lord's  Supper.  But  Trench,  I 
think,  has  given  the  true  interpretation  of  the 
banquet,  when  he  takes  it  to  allude  to  "  the  fes- 
tal joy  and  rejoicing  which  is  in  heaven  at  the 
sinner's  return,  and  no  less  in  the  Church  on 


138  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

earth,  and  in  his  own  heart  also ;"  while  Arnot 
puts  it  perhaps  more  simply,  if  also  more  anti- 
thetically, thus  :  "  The  feast  indicates  the  joy  of 
a  forgiving  God  over  a  forgiven  man,  and  the  joy 
of  a  forgiven  man  in  a  forgiving  God."  *  Thus 
we  have  here  again  a  point  of  union  between 
this  parable  and  the  two  preceding.  The  one 
great  purpose  of  them  all  was,  to  illustrate  the 
fact  that  "  there  is  joy  in  heaven  over  one  sinner 
that  repenteth  ;"  but  the  peculiarity  here  is  not 
that  the  joy  is  greater  over  the  recovery  of  that 
which  had  been  lost,  than  over  those  who  had 
never  gone  astray,  nor  that  the  gladness  is  par- 
ticipated in  by  unfallen  beings,  but  rather  in  this, 
that  the  deligld  is  shared  by  the  recovered  one  him- 
self ;  and,  in  accordance  with  the  plan  which 
we  have  pursued  of  restricting  ourselves  to  that 
which  is  distinctive  in  each  of  these  stories,  we 
shall  confine  our  attention  to  this  alone.  The 
feast  was  made  in  honor  of  the  prodigal.  It  was 
given  specially  and  peculiarly  to  him.  Others, 
of  course,  partook  of  it,  and,  more  particularly, 
his  father  enjoyed  the  festival ;  but  what  most  of 


*  "The  Parables  of  our  Lord,"  by  tbe  Bev.  Williau  Arnot, 
p.  440. 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  139 

/ 

all  comes  out  here  is,  tliat  the  lost  son  had  a  joy- 
ous feast  given  to  him  on  his  welcome  home. 
The  joy  of  God  and  of  the  angels  has  been  al- 
ready considered.     Here  we  have  the  gladness  of 
the  converted  soul  itself  ;  and  if  we  keep  this 
prominently  before  our  minds,  we  shall  not  fall 
into  the  common  mistake  of  supposing  that  the 
scene   of   this   banquet   is   confined  to   heaven. 
Doubtless,   so   far   as    God   and  the  angels  are 
concerned,  we  must  so  regard  it  ;  but  in  respect 
to  the  lost  but  now  restored  son,  we  must  think 
of  it  as  on  earth    and   in  his   own   soul.     The 
new  life  begins  in  feast.     The  child  of  God  has 
"  joy  "  as  well  as  "  peace  in  believing."     "While 
God  rejoices  over  him,  he  rejoices  in  God  ;  and 
in  the  hour  of  conversion  this  gladness  is  pecu- 
liarly intense  ;  so  much  so,  indeed,  that  it  may 
well  be  described  as  a  special  era  of  high  festi- 
val.    When   Philip   preached  in  the  Samaritan 
city,  and  multitudes  were  turned  unto  the  Lord 
under  his  ministrations,  we  read  that  "  there  was 
great  joy  in  that  city  ;"  and  when  the  Ethiopian 
eunuch  had  found  the  salvation  that  is  in  Christ 
Jesus,   we   are  told  that  "  he  went  on  his  way 
rejoicing."    So  it  ever  is.     The  moment  in  which 
salvation   is  embraced  is  one  of  gladness,   and 


140  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

the  Christian  life  may  be  described  as  a  per- 
petual feast.  Not  always,  indeed,  is  this  joy  pre- 
sent in  the  same  degree,  nor  do  all  possess  it  in 
the  same  measure,  for  differences  of  tempera- 
ment and  constitution  manifest  themselves  in  this 
as  in  other  things  ;  but  it  is  always  to  some  ex- 
tent the  portion  of  the  belierer  on  earth,  and  in 
heaven  it  shall  be  pure  and  perfect  and  peren- 
nial. Many  illustrative  cases  might  be  gleaned 
from  Christian  biography  in  proof  of  the  exist- 
ence and  intensity  of  this  spiritual  joy  in  the 
convert's  heart ;  but  we  cannot  now  enter  upon 
so  wide  a  field.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  the  holi- 
est, most  elevating,  and  most  lasting  gladness 
which  the  soul  can  feel,  is  that  which  springs 
from  the  contemplation  of  God's  mercy,  revealed 
to  it  and  received  by  it  through  the  cross  of 
Christ.  Peter  used  not  the  words  of  wild  fa- 
naticism, but  the  language  of  sober  truth,  when 
he  said,  "  In  tuhom,  though  noiu  tve  see  him  noff 
yet  believing,  ice  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable,  and 
fiM  of  glory  ;  and  some  among  us  can  indorse 
the  words  of  Mrs.  Isabella  Graham,  when,  re- 
ferring to  her  own  conversion,  she  says  :  "  3Iy 
views  then  ivere  dark  compared  loith  what  they  are 
now  ;  hut  this  I  remember,  that,  at  the  tiine,  I  felt 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  141 

heart-satisfy iiig  trust  in  the  mercy  of  God  through 
Christ,   and  for  a  time  rejoiced  luith  joy  scarcely 
supportable,  singing  almost  continually  the  hundred 
and  third  Fsalm.''^     Such,   mj  brethren,  is  the 
banquet   which    God  spreads  for  the  returning 
sinner ;  »but  we  may  not  forget  that  He  makes 
both  the    Church  on  earth  and  the    Church  in 
heaven  sharers  with  Him  in  His  joy.     They  all 
alike    make    merry — I    like  the  homely  word — 
over  a  sinner's  conversion ;  and  though,  on  the 
principle  that  it  is  more  blessed  to    give    than 
to  receive,  the  highest  dehght  is  that  of    God, 
yet  we   must    not   forget    the   gladness    of    the 
penitent  himself.     Sinner,  do   you    want    to   be 
happy  ?     Then  return  to  God.     Away  from  Him 
you  must  ever  be  in  want,  hungering  after  the 
world's   husks,  which    yet  cannot  be  obtained; 
but   from   Him   you  will  receive  the  truest  joy 
—the    joy    of   forgiveness,   the   joy    of    accept- 
ance, the  joy  of  assurance,  the  joy  of  holiness, 
and,  finally,  as  the    cKmax   and  consummation 
of   them    all,  the    joy  of  heaven.     They   speak 
falsely  who  allege  that  the  gospel  is  a    melan- 


*  Life  of  Mrs.  Isabella  Graliam,  published  by  the  American 
Tidct  Society,  p.  150. 


142  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

choly  thing,  and  an  enemy  to  mirth.  "  True 
piety  is  cheerful  as  the  day,"  and  the  Chris- 
tian life  should  be  continous  joy. 

In  the  old  dispensation  there  were  three 
great  annual  festivals  at  which  the  sons  of 
Abraham  went  up  to  Jerusalem — that  of  the 
passorer,  which  commemorated  and  renewed  their 
gladness  over  their  deliverance  from  the  Egyp- 
tian house  of  bondage.;  that  of  the  first  fruits 
when  the  earliest  ripe  sheaves  gave  joyous  fore- 
token of  the  coming  harvest ;  and  that  of  Ta- 
bernacles, when,  for  a  season  their  tent-life 
was  renewed,  and  they  blessed  God  for  their 
settled  enjoyment  of  the  promised  land.  But 
what  was  temporary  and  occasional  in  the  form^er 
economy,  is  permanent  under  the  gospel,  and  the 
gladness  of  all  these  three  festivals  is  united  in 
the  Christian  life.  The  Pascal  joy  of  deliver- 
ance— the  Pentecostal  gladness  of  first  fruits  in 
the  possession  of  the  earnest  of  the  Spirit — and 
the  Tabernacle-rejoicing  in  the  contemplation 
from  out  the  frail  booth  of  the  flesh  of  "  the  city 
which  hath  foundations  whose  builder  and  maker 
is  God  " — these  all  combine  to  make  the  expe- 
rience of  the  believer  a  continuous  feast,  which 
is  not  the  less  real  because  it  is  internal  and  spir- 


THE  PRODICtAI^  SON.  143 

itual.  Three  feasts  in  one  !  and  the  festival-time 
a  Ufe-time  !  Is  there  nothing  in  all  this  to  al- 
lure us  ?  "  Christ  our  passover  is  sacrificed  for 
us,  therefore  let  us  keep  the  feast  "  our  life-time 
through,  "  not  with  the  old  leaven  of  malice  and 
wickedness,  but  with  the  unleavened  bread  of  sin- 
cerity and  truth."  "^ 

*  1  Corinthiaiis,  t.,  7,  8. 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON. 


IV. 
THE      ELDER     BROTHER. 


"  Now  his  elder  son  was  in  the  field  ;  and  as  he  came  and  drew  nigh  to 
the  house,  he  heard  music  and  dancing. 

"And  he  called  one  of  the  servants,  and  asked  what  these  things 
meant. 

"  And  he  said  unto  him,  Thy  brother  is  come  ;  and  thy  father  hath 
killed  the  fatted  calf,  because  he  hath  received  him  safe  and  sound. 

"  And  he  was  angry,  and  would  not  go  in  ;  therefore  came  his  father  out, 
and  entreated  him. 

"  And  he,  answering,  said  to  his  father,  Lo,  these  many  years  do  I  serve 
thee ;  neither  transgressed  I  at  any  time  thy  commandment ;  and  yet 
thou  never  gavest  me  a  kid,  that  I  might  make  merry  with  my  friends  : 

"  But  as  soon  as  this  thy  sou  was  come,  which  hath  devoured  thy  living 
with  harlots,  thou  hast  killed  for  him  the  fatted  calf. 

"  And  he  said  unto  him.  Son,  thou  art  ever  with  me,  and  all  that  I  have 
is  thine. 

"  It  was  meet  that  we  should  make  merry,  and  be  glad  ;  for  this  thy 
brother  was  dead,  and  is  ahve  again  ;  and  was  lost,  and  is  found." 

Luke  zy.,  25-32. 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON. 


IV. 

THE   ELDER  BROTHER. 

In  tlie  general  household  joj  over  the  prodigal's 
return,  there  was  one  who  refused  to  share.  The 
elder  son,  who  now  for  the  first  time  comes  into 
prominence,  and  who  seems  to  have  had  very  large 
ideas  of  his  own  importance,  was  absent  in  the  field 
at  the  moment  of  his  brother's  re-appearance,  and 
only  became  aware  that  something  unwonted  had 
occurred  when,  as  he  drew  near,  he  heard  the 
sound  of  music  and  dancing.  Instead,  however, 
of  gomg  trustfully  forward  into  the  house,  in  the 
full  confidence  that  everything  over  which  his 
father  presided  must  be  right  and  proper,  he 
showed  his  mean  and  suspicious   disposition  by 


14:8  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

calling  one  of  the  servants,  and  asking  of  him  what 
"  these  things  meant."  Promptly  and  plainly, 
the  domestic  made  reply,  "  Thy  brother  is  come  ; 
and  thy  father  hath  killed  for  him  the  fatted  calf, 
because  he  hath  received  him  safe  and  sound." 
The  servant's  words  imply  that,  in  his  view,  it 
was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that  such 
a  festival  should  be  held  on  such  an  occasion  ; 
but  the  information  which  he  conveyed  was 
gall  and  wormwood  to  the  elder  brother's  soul. 
"  What !  such  a  fuss  made  over  the  return  of  a 
useless  good-for-nothing !  Never  was  any  like 
rejoicing  made  on  my  account.  Is  this,  then,  the 
reward  of  all  my  steadiness  and  industry  ?  Let 
them  keep  feast  who  please,  but  I  will  take  no 
place  at  the  board."  And  so,  in  the  sulks,  because 
more  seemed  to  be  made  of  his  brother  than  of 
himself,  he  refused  to  enter  the  house.  But  his 
father  could  not  think  of  allowing  him  to  remain 
in  this  mood,  without  at  least  making  an  effort 
to  induce  him  to  change  his  purpose.  The  same 
love  that  prompted  him,  when  he  saw  his  younger 
son  returning,  to  go  forth  to  meet  him,  disposed 
him  now,  when  he  saw  his  elder  son  departing,  to 
go  out  and  entreat  him  to  come  in.  But  he  was 
met  in   an   unfilial   and  almost    insulting   man- 


THE  PKODIGAL  SON.  149 

uer.  *'  Lo,  these  many  years  do  I  serve  thee  " — 
(what !  a  son,  and  yet  talking  of  service  in  this 
mercantile  fashion  ! — where  has  thy  fihal  affection 
gone  ?  Has  it  been  for  the  reward,  then,  after  all, 
and  not  for  love,  that  thou  hast  staid  at  home  ?) 
— "  neither  transgi'essed  I  at  any  time  thy  com- 
mandment " — (excellent  3^oung  man  1  truly  thou 
hast  a  good  report  of  thyself.  A  very  model  son  ! 
A  perfect  specimen  of  obedience  to  the  Fifth 
Commandment !  and  yet,  methinks,  had  thy  son- 
ship  been  as  faultless  as  thou  sayest,  it  would  have 
been  also  somewhat  unconscious  of  its  merit.  I 
like  not  this  dwelling  on  thy  pre-eminence.  There 
is  more  true  sonship  in  thy  brother's,  "  I  have 
sinned,"  than  in  thy  self-laudation)— "  and  yet 
thou  never  gavest  me  a  kid  that  I  might  make 
merry  with  my  friends  "—(Didst  thou  ever  ask  it  ? 
or  was  there  ever  any  great  occasion  in  thy  Hfe 
when  such  a  thing  would  have  been  appropriate  ? 
Besides,  the  fatted  calf  was  killed,  not  to  give  a 
banquet  to  thy  brother's  friends,  but  to  express 
thy  father's  own  delight.  Why  wilt  thou  think 
thyself  slighted,  when  no  offence  was  intended 
toward  thee  ?)— "  But  as  soon  as  this  thy  son  was 
come  "—(Thy  son  !  Is  he  not  then  thy  brother 
also?    or  dost  thou  repudiate  the  relationship? 


150  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

"What  an  insult  to  tliy  father  is  this  sneering 
phrase !) — "  who  hath  devoured  thy  living  with 
harlots  " — (Ah  !  how  envy  exaggerates  the  faults 
of  those  whose  good  it  grudges,  and  imputes  to 
them  w^ickednesses  of  its  own  imagining !  The 
prodigal  had  not  devoured  all  the  father's  living  ; 
there  was  a  good  fat  portion  yet  for  the  elder  son  ; 
and  as  to  his  wasting  his  substance  on  harlots, 
that  is  an  unsupported  assertion  on  the  part  of  his 
brother.  It  may  have  been  true.  But  there  is  no 
evidence-  that  it  was.  Envy,  however,  takes  it 
quite  for  granted.  Your  very  precise  and  proper 
people,  who  pride  themselves  most  upon  never 
having  transgressed  any  commandment,  have  al- 
ways most  to  say  about  other  people's  faults,  and 
they  take  good  care  to  make  them  blacker  by 
their  speech.) 

"We  have  thus  parenthetically  exposed  the  un- 
generous insinuations  and  unfilial  disposition 
of  this  youth's  complaint,  in  order  that  we  may 
bring  out  before  you  more  clearly  the  mag- 
nanimity of  his  father,  who  takes  no  notice  of 
the  sneering  innuendoes  which  were  designed  to 
be  so  stinging,  but  only  calmly  replies,  "  Son, 
thou,  art  ever  with  me,  and  all  that  I  have  is 
thine."     As  if    he    had    said,  "Why    speak    of 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  151 

making  merry  with  thy  friends,  when  thou  hast 
always  had  a  feast  in  me  ;  and  as  for  thy  bro- 
ther's waste,  say  no  more  of  that ;  thou  art  not 
the  poorer  on  that  account,  for  all  that  I  have 
is  thine."  But  this  is  all  the  length  the  fa- 
ther wiU  go  ;  he  will  not  acknowledge  that  he 
had  in  any  way  overlooked  the  one  son,  in  his 
joy  over  the  return  of  the  other;  nor  will  he 
admit  that  he  had  done  anything  strange  or  im- 
proper in  making  such  a  festival.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  defends  his  procedure,  and  repeats  his 
gladness,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  saying,  "  It 
was  meet,"  ^.e.,  it  was  fitting;— it  was  in  every 
respect  in  harmony  with  the  dictates  of  nature 
and  rehgion  —  it  was  in  the  highest  degree 
appropriate,—"  that  we  should  make  merry  and 
be  glad ;  for  this  thy  brother  was  dead,  and 
is  alive  again ;  and  was  lost,  and  is  found." 
Observe  the  delicate  re^^roof  conveyed  in  the 
first  word,  "son,"  and  in  that  other  expres- 
sion, "thy  brother."  On  the  former  occasion 
he  said,  "  This  my  son  was  dead,  and  is 
alive  again ;  but  now  it  is  "  thy  brother."  It 
was  as  if  he  had  said,  "  I  have  observed  the 
spirit  of  a  servant  in  all  that  thou  hast  said, 
but  I  will  still  call  thee  *  son ;'  and  though  thou 


152  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

cynically  didst  refuse  to  call  the  returned  wan- 
derer '  thy  brother;  I  will  not  let  thee  act  so 
utterly  unworthily.  Thou  wilt  think  better  of  it 
yet.  Somewhere  in  thee,  surely,  there  is  a  bro- 
ther's heart ;  and  if  that  be  touched,  thou  wilt 
at  once  admit  the  'meetness'  of  our  mirth." 

Thus  far  I  have  had  regard  only  to  the  literal 
aspect  of  the  story,  and  I  cannot  pass  from  that, 
without  pausing  a  moment  or  two  longer  to 
point  out  two  things  which  come  out  here,  which 
may  be  wholesome  to  us  all. 

Observe    how   self-importance    makes    a   man 
moody   and  unhappy.     He  who  is  always  think- 
ing of  his  own  excellences,  renders  himself  there- 
by unfit  to  enjoy  the  good  of  others,  and  is  prone 
to  imagine  that  every  token  of  affection  given  to 
another  is  an  insult  offered  to  himself.     Hence  he 
is  touchy,   sensitive,   irritable   and   envious.     He 
takes   offence  where  none  is    meant,   and   even 
wdien   those  around    him    are    not    thinking   of 
him  at  all,   he  interprets   their   conduct   as  if  it 
were  studiously  discourteous,  and  goes   through 
the    world   smarting    from   wounds   which  have 
sprung,  not  so  much  from  the  neglect  of  others,  as 
from    his  own   overweening    self-conceit.     There 
is  no    surer  way   to   make   ourselves   miserable 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  153 

than  to  tliink  of  ourselves  more  liiglilj  than 
we  ought  to  think.  It  isolates  us  from  all  about 
us.  It  cuts  us  off  alike  from  human  sympathy 
and  divine  assistance.  It  makes  us  very  Ish- 
maels,  with  our  hands  against  every  man,  and 
every  man's  hands  apparently  against  us.  It 
gives  a  jaundiced  interpretation  to  the  behavior 
of  those  who,  so  far  from  meaning  to  do  evil  to 
us,  have  our  best  interests  at  heart,  and  love 
us  with  self-sacrificing  affection.  The  man  who 
has  a  wound  about  him,  no  matter  where  it  may 
be,  feels  it  to  be  always  in  his  way.  Let  him 
do  what  he  will,  or  go  where  he  may,  he  cannot 
move  himself  but  he  is  conscious  of  its  pain. 
In  like  manner,  he  who  has  this  feeling  of 
self-importance  is  continually  smarting.  Some- 
body has  always  been  slighting  him.  He  is 
constantly  complaining  of  having  been  insulted, 
and  when  honor  is  given  to  another,  he  feels 
nothing  but  that  he  has  been  overlooked.  Thus 
he  shuts  himself  out  from  every  festival,  and 
mopes  most  of  all  when  others  are  merry.  May 
God  deliver  us  from  this  idolatry  of  self,  on  whose 
altar  all  true  nobleness  and  real  happiness  are 
completely  immolated ! 

Notice,  again,  how  repulsive  to  others  this  self 


154  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

important  spirit  is.  You  cannot  take  to  tliis 
elder  brother.  Even  in  his  wanderings  and  sins, 
the  younger  was  more  lovable  than  he,  his  indus- 
try and  sobriety  notwithstanding.  So  it  is  ever 
with  the  sfelfish  one.  He  is  a  non-conductor 
in  society.  The  electricity  of  love  never  passes 
through  him ;  and  in  the  end,  all  loving  hearts 
are  driven  from  him.  Thus  he  is  not  only 
the  most  unhappy,  but  also  the  most  useless  of 
men.  The  "sdjist^'  is  left,  in  righteous  retribu- 
tion, to  that  most  miserable  of  all  companions, 
himself.  He  has  no  magnetism  about  him.  He 
can  gain  no  entrance  into  the  hearts  of  others. 
He  stands  on  the  outside  of  every  holy  enterprise, 
and  is  at  the  very  antipodes  of  him  who  said, 
*'  Neither  count  I  my  life  dear  unto  myself,  that  I 
may  finish  my  course  with  joy,  and  the  ministry 
that  I  have  received  of  the  Lord."  Thus,  alike 
to  do  good  and  to  be  happy,  we  inust  forget 
self;  we  must  merge  ourselves  in  the  cause  which 
we  are  seeking  to  advance ;  we  must  be,  as  one 
has  .phrased  it,  "  emptied  and  lost  and  swallowed 
up  in  Christ." 

But  passing  now  to  the  interpretation  of  the 
parable,  the  question  arises,  "  Who  is  this  elder 
brother?"      Various   answers    have  been  given. 


<l 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  155 

Some  have  said  that  he  represents  the  angels 
in  their  rehxtion  to  the  human  race,  but  this 
can  scarcely  be  maintained ;  for,  as  the  other 
two  parables  in  this  chapter  make  evident,  so 
far  from  being  envious  at  the  reception  given 
by  God  to  returning  sinners  of  mankind,  the 
angels  rejoice  with  Him.  This  view,  therefore, 
must  be  conclusively  set  aside.  Others  have 
found  those  represented  by  the  elder  brother  in 
the  Jews,  while  the  younger  is  taken  by  them 
to  symbolize  the  Gentiles ;  and  it  must  be  con- 
fessed that  much  may  be  advanced  in  favor  of 
this  explanation.  As  a  nation  the  Jews  were 
most  exclusive,  and  the  very  idea  of  the  Gentiles 
being  made  partakers  with  them  of  the  blessings 
of  the  covenant  was  most  repugnant  to  them. 
Thus  when  our  Lord,  in  his  first  sermon  at  Na- 
zareth, referred  to  Elijah's  mission  to  Sarepta, 
and  Elisha's  cure  of  Naaman,  and  thereby  sug- 
gested that  the  Gentiles  w^ere  to  be  made 
sharers  of  the  favors  which  had  been  so  long 
restricted  to  the  Jews,  His  hearers  w^ere  so  en- 
raged that  they  laid  violent  hands  upon  Him, 
and  sought  to  slay  Him.  So,  again,  when  Paul 
addressed  the  crowd  from  the  castle  stairs  at 
Jerusalem,  they  gave  him  a  patient  hearing  until 


156  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

lie  spoke  of  the  Gentiles ;  but  immediately  there- 
after they  cried,  "  Away  with  such  a  feilow 
from  the  earth  ;  it  is  not  fit  that  he  should  live." 
Nay,  so  strong  was  this  feeling  even  in  the  breast 
of  Peter,  the  apostle,  that  he  had  to  be  prepared 
by  a  special  vision  from  heaven  for  preaching 
the  gospel  to  the  Gentile  Cornelius.  There  is  no 
doubt,  therefore,  that  the  spirit  of  the  elder  bro- 
ther here  was  manifested  by  the  Jews  in  their 
treatment  of  the  Gentiles.  But  whether  this 
was  the  primary  reference  of  the  appendix  to 
the  parable  of  the  prodigal,  is  another  mat- 
ter. The  occasion  on  which  it  was  spoken  is 
described  in  the  opening  verses  of  the  chapter ; 
and  though  w^e  have  there  an  allusion  to  the 
Scribes  and  Pharisees  as  over  against  the 
publicans  and  sinners,  yet  I  fail  to  see  any  hint 
of  nationality.  These  diiBferent  classes  or  charac- 
ters were  all  Jews  alike ;  and  therefore  it  seems 
to  me  to  be  not  only  an  unwarrantable  restriction 
of  the  scope  of  the  parable,  but  also  a  mistaken 
idea  of  its  original  application,  to  say  that  the 
elder  brother  represents  the  Jew.  Others,  there- 
fore, understand  that  the  purpose  of  Jesus  in 
introducing  the  elder  brother  into  this  parable 
was  to  hold  up  a  mirror  to  the  Scribes  and  Phari- 


THE   PRODIGAL   SON.  157 

sees,  in  which  each  of  them  might  see  himself, 
and  might  thns  comprehend,  not  only  how  un- 
amiable  he  was,  but  also  how  httle  there  was  in 
common  between  him  and  God.  But  even  this 
interpretation  is  beset  with  difficulties;  for  how 
could  it  be  said  that  these  Pharisees  and  Scribes 
had  never  transgressed  God's  commandment? 
and  with  what  propriety  could  they  be  called 
God's  sons,  or  could  it  be  affirmed  that  He  was 
ever  with  them,  and  that  all  that  He  had  was 
theu'S?  To  these  questions,  Calvin,  who  may 
taken  as  the  exponent  of  this  class  of  interpre- 
ters, thus  rephes  : — "  He  compares  the  Scribes, 
who  were  swelled  with  presumption,  to  good  and 
modest  men,  who  had  always  lived  with  de- 
cency and  sobriety,  and  had  honorably  sup- 
ported their  families ;  nay,  even  to  obedient 
children,  who,  throughout  their  whole  lives,  had 
patiently  submitted  to  their  father's  control.  And 
though  they  were  utterly  unworthy  of  this  com- 
mendation, yet  Christ,  speaking  according  to 
their  belief,  attributes  to  them,  by  way  of  con- 
cession, their  pretended  holiness  as  if  it  had 
been  virtue,  as  if  He  had  said.  Though  I  were 
to  grant  to  you  what  you  falsely  boast  of  that 
you  have  always  been  obedient  children  to  God, 


158  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

still  YOU  ought  not  so  haughtily  and  cruelly  to 
reject  your  brethren  when  they  repent  of  their 
wicked  life.""^  To  those  who  accept  this  ex- 
planation as  satisfactory,  the  parable  has  a 
precise  and  distinct  reference  to  the  Pharisees 
and  Scribes  ;  and  in  this  view,  the  uncertainty 
in  which  we  are  left  as  to  whether  the  elder 
brother  went  in  to  the  feast  or  not,  becomes  very 
suggestive,  as  being  in  itself  an  appeal  to  the  self- 
righteous  ones  to  whom  it  was  addressed,  to 
reconsider  their  position,  if  haply  they  might, 
as  we  know  some  of  them  afterwards  did,  go 
in,  and  hold  high  festival  with  God's  redeemed 
ones,  brought  from  the  very  lowest  of  the 
people. 

Others,  however,  dissatisfied  with  all  the  inter- 
pretations which  I  have  enumerated,  and  pressed 
especially  with  the  difficulty,  that  the  elder  brother 
seems  to  be  regarded  as  a  true,  though  tempora- 
rily erring  son,  have  preferred  to  make  him  stand 
as  the  representative  of  those  who,  as  Matthew 
Henry  says,  are  "  really  good,  and  have  been  so 
from  their  youth  up,  and  never  went  astray  into 
any  vicious  course  of  living ;  to  whom,  therefore, 

*  Commentary  in  loco. 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  159 

those  words,  *  Son,  thou  art  ever  with  me,'  are  ap- 
jDhcable  without  any  difficulty,  though  they  are 
not  so  to  the  Scvibes  and  Pharisees." 

Now,  if  it  were  necessary  to  adopt  any  one  of 
these  explanations,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  the  rest, 
I  should,  without  hesitation,  prefer  that  which  re- 
gards the  elder  brother  as  the  likeness  of  the 
Scribes  and  Pharisees,  believing  that,  though  it  is 
by  no  means  free  from  difficulty,  it  is  yet  the  most 
pointed  and  natural  interpretation  of  them  all. 
Still,  I  do  not  see  that  we  are  called  to  identify 
this  self-sufficient  and  unamiable  youth  with  any 
particular  -individual.  To  me  he  stands  out  rather 
as  the  idealized  representative  of  a  disposition  or 
character.  He  is  the  impersonation  and  embodi- 
ment of  envy ;  and  wherever,  or  in  whomsoever, 
that  quahty  exists,  there  you  have,  for  the  time 
being,  the  elder  brother.  I  gladly  avail  myself 
here  of  Mr.  Arnot's  words  : — "  In  rejDresenting  the 
human  figure,  an  artist  may  proceed  upon  either 
of  two  distinct  principles,  according  to  the  object 
which  for  the  time  he  may  have  in  view.  He  may, 
on  the  one  hand,  delineate  the  likeness  of  an  in- 
dividual, producing  a  copy  of  his  particular  fea- 
tures, with  all  their  beauties  and  all  their  blem- 
ishes alike ;  or  he  may,  on  the  other  hand,  con- 


160  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

ceive  and  execute  an  ideal  picture  of  man,  the 
portrait  of  no  person  in  particular,  with  features 
selected  from  many  specimens  of  the  race,  and 
combined,  in  one  complete  figure.  The  parable  of 
the  prodigal  is  a  picture  of  the  latter  kind  ;  it  is 
not,  out  and  out,  the  picture  of  any  man,  but  it  is 
to  a  certain  extent  the  picture  of  every  man."* 
Thus  viewed,  the  elder  brother  also  is  an  ideal  pic- 
ture, not  agreeing  in  every  minute  particular  with 
any  one  man,  or  any  one  class  of  men,  but  yet  so 
portraying  the  workings  of  one  evil  disposition 
that  the  envious  man  in  him  may  see  himself, 
whether  he  be  a  Pharisee  or  Scribe,  standing  out- 
side of  the  spiritual  Church  of  Christ  altogether, 
or  a  genuine  but  imperfect  disciple,  who  is  really 
connected  with  the  Lord  Jesus.  This  explanation, 
while  it  gets  rid  of  the  difficulties  which  must  meet 
every  one  who  attempts  to  give  a  distinct  inter- 
pretation to  every  expression  employed  by,  or  ad- 
dressed to,  the  elder  brother,  has  the  further  merit 
that  it  widens  the  apphcation  of  the  parable,  mak- 
ing it  speak  to  the  genuine  believer  in  Christ,  as 
well  as  to  the  legalist  and  the  self-righteous.  Take 
the   elder  brother   as  representing  the  concrete 

*  The.  Parables  of  our  Lord,  p.  431. 


THE  PRODIGAL  SON.  161 

Pharisee,  and  very  few  will  be  inclined  to  think 
that  he  has  anything  to  do  with  them.  Take  him, 
on  the  other  hand,  as  the  dramatic  delineation  of 
the  working  of  the  self-righteous  and  envious 
spirit,  and  each  of  us  must  feel  that  there  is  a 
great  deal  of  elder-brotherliness  about  himself. 
In  the  legalist  there  is  nothing  else  but  this  evil 
disposition  ;  but  there  is  more  or  less  of  it  even  in 
the  true  follower  of  Christ ;  and  so  the  elder  bro- 
ther stands  out  here  as  a  warning  to  all,  and  none 
of  us  can  say  with  truth  that  he  has  no  message 
to  us.  "  Who  is  this  elder  son?"  The  question 
was  once  asked  in  an  assembly  of  ministers  at  El- 
berfeldt.  Daniel  Krummacher  made  answer — "  I 
know  him  very  well ;  I  met  him  only  yesterday." 
"  Who  is  he  ?"  they  asked,  eagerly,  and  he  replied 
solemnly,  "  Myself !"  He  then  explained  that,  on 
the  previous  day,  hearing  that  a  very  ill-conditioned 
person  had  received  a  very  gracious  visitation  of 
God's  goodness,  he  had  felt  not  a  little  envy  and 
irritation."^  This  was  the  true  reading  of  the 
story,  and  it  is  capable  of  almost  indefinite  ex- 
pansion and  manifold  application.  It  fits  the 
haughty  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  to  whom  it  was 


*  Stiers'  "Words  of  Jesus,"  vol.  iv.,  p.  162  ;  quoted  in  Dr. 
James  Hamilton's  "Pearl  of  Parables,''  p.  164. 


162  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

first  addressed,  and  who  murmured  at  the  atten- 
tion paid  by  Christ  to  publicans  and  sinners,  say- 
ing, "  This  man  receiveth  sinners,  and  eateth  with 
them."  It  fits  the  Jews  in  the  Saviour's  day,  and 
even  in  the  early  Christian  Church,  who  looked 
askance  at  the  Gentiles,  and  complained  that  the 
gospel  was  preached  to  them  also.  It  fits  the 
disciples  at  Jerusalem,  who,  immediately  after 
Paul's  conversion,  were  "  all  afraid  of  him,  and 
believed  not  that  he  was  a  disciple  ;"  and  it  fits 
Paul  himself,  when,  in  a  mood  of  stern  and 
somewhat  unfeeling  severity,  he  refused  to  take 
back  Mark  into  his  confidence,  and  had  so 
sharp  a  contention  with  Barnabas  over  the  affair 
that  they  departed  asunder  the  one  from  the  other. 
Truly,  even  of  that  great  apostle,  at  that  time, 
it  might  have  been  said,  "  He  was  angry,  and 
w^ould  not  go  in."  So,  again,  when  a  Christian 
of  long-standing  and  irreproachable  character,  who 
has  known  some  degree  of  happiness  in  Christ,  but 
has  not  had  anything  approaching  to  ecstasy,  is 
inclined  to  be  suspicious  of  the  genuineness  of  the 
transport  of  him  who  has  just  been  converted  from 
a  life  of  grossest  sin,  and  is  disposed,  in  envy,  to 
ask,  "  Why  should  such  experiences  be  granted  to 
him,   while   I,  who  have  been  seeking  to  foUow 


THE  PRODIGAL   SON.  163 

Jesus  all  my  clays,  Imow  nothing  of  them  ?"  we 
have  the  working  of  the  same  disposition  as  that 
which  the  elder  brother  here  displayed.  "When  a 
minister  of  age  and  excellence,  who  is  mourning 
over  the  apparent  fruitlessness  of  his  labors,  is 
tempted  to  ask  how  it  comes  that  a  young  brother, 
in  the  very  outset  of  his  career,  is  made  instru- 
mental in  bringing  multitudes  to  Christ,  and  per- 
mits himself  to  think,  if  not  to  say,  that  it  is 
ungenerous  in  God  to  pass  by  an  old  and  faithful 
servant  such  as  he  has  been,  and  to  use  and  bless 
an  inexperienced  lad ;  or  when  a  stickler  for  order 
and  decorum  murmurs  that  the  Lord  should  honor 
with  success  the  irregularities  of  a  revival  meet- 
ing, and  the  labors  of  some  "  converted  prize- 
fighter," in  larger  measure  than  he  seems  to 
bless  the  stated  workings  of  the  authorized 
ministry  in  the  ordinary  exercises  of  the  sanc- 
tuary ;  or  when  some  father,  prominent  in  the 
Church  for  piety  and  usefulness,  is  led,  in  his 
haste  and  in  his  self-importance,  to  ask,  "  How 
comes  it  that  the  children  of  this  one  and  that 
one — of  httle  name  among  the  brethren,  and 
hardly  known  for  their  zeal  and  devotedness — 
are  all  converted,  while  my  son  is  permitted  to 
grow  up  in  sin,  and  to  become  to  me  a  source  of 


164  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

constant  tmxiety  ?" — in  each  and  all  of  these  we 
have  a  phasis  of  that  unlovely  disposition  which, 
in  the  elder  brother,  is  here  condemned.  The 
Sabbath-school  teacher  who  throws  up  the  work 
because  another  seems  more  successful  in  it  than 
himself  ;  the  laborer  in  any  department  of  benev- 
olent activity,  who,  because  he  thinks  that  more 
is  made  of  some  one  else  than  of  himself,  gives 
way  to  -personal  pique,  and  will  have  no  more  to 
do  with  the  concern  ;  the  over-sensitive,  irrita- 
ble, petted  man,  who  is  forever  taking  offence, 
and  manages  somehow  to  exclude  himself  from 
every  society  with  which  he  has  been  connected, 
and  to  estrange  himself  from  the  sympathy  and  co- 
operation of  all  with  whom  he  has  come  into  con- 
tact ;  may  all  look  here,  and  in  the  elder  brother 
of  this  parable  they  wiU  behold  themselves.  But 
let  not  even  these  imagine  that  they  are  beyond 
God's  acceptance.  The  father  came  out  and  en- 
treated the  elder  brother  to  go  in  to  the  feast ;  and 
so  still  God  is  appealing  to  the  envious.  The  door 
is  open  to  them,  if  they  will  but  enter  ;  and  when 
they  consent  to  do  so  in  the  spirit  of  a  son,  and 
not  of  a  servant,  then  they  too  shall  rejoice,  and 
the    festival,  instead    of   aggravating   them   into 


THE   PRODIGAL   SON.-  165 

misery,  will  be  felt  to  be  an  appropriate  expression 
of  their  mirth. 

I    close    with    three  practical  reflections  from 
the  whole  subject. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  let  professing  Christians 
seek  to  manifest  to  sinners  generally  the  same 
spirit  that  ;^od  has  shown  to  themselves.  The 
gentlenesj^f  God  should  be  repeated  by  us,  and 
with  the^ame  tenderness  and  affection  as  Jesus 
dealt  with  the  ungodly,  we  should  deal  with 
those  whom  we  desire  to  bring  in  penitence  to 
Him.  Parents,  this  parable  speaks  to  you  about 
the  training  of  your  children,  and  bids  you  seek 
their  godly  upbringing,  not  in  rigorous  and  un- 
bending sternness,  but  in  tender  love.  Sabbath- 
school  teachers,  this  parable  bids  you,  in  jouv 
earnest  efforts  for  your  scholars'  welfare,  show  to 
them  the  same  gentleness  that  the  father  mani- 
fested when  he  fell  weeping  on  the  neck  of  his 
returning  son  ;  and  it  warns  you  against  indulging 
in  vituperation  and  reproach.  Had  the  prodigal 
met  the  elder  brother  first,  he  might  have  gone 
away  back  to  his  iniquity,  a}^  even  from  his 
father's  very  door.  So  a  cruel,  unfeeling,  tauntiu^^ 
word  may  be  the  means  of  sending  away  from  X' 
Jesus  one,  who  else  might  have  come  to  Him  in 


166  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

believing  penitence.  Pastor,  there  is  a  message 
here  for  thee  too  :  and  thou  art  commanded  to  be 
in  the  midst  of  thy  flock,  loving,  as  was  this  father 
to  his  erring  son  ;  and  to  beware  lest,  by  hard 
unfeeling  sternness,  thou  shouldst  drive  away  those 
who  are  seeking  to  enter  into  the  fold.  O  for 
-more  of  this  divine  tenderness  among  us  all !  Let 
us  remember  that  the  reputation  of  the  gospel, 
and  in  some  sort  also  the  character  of  God  him- 
self, is  at  stake  in  our  conduct ;  and  let  us  tremble 
with  a  holy  fear,  lest  we  should  give  occasion  to 
His  enemies  to  blaspheme  His  name,  or  lest  we 
should,  by  our  repulsiveness,  scare  away  some  poor 
soul  from  the  loving  Father  who  is  so  wdlling  to 
receive  him.  Men  judge  of- God  through  us.  Let 
us  see,  therefore,  that  they  have,  from  our  deport- 
ment toward  them,  a  right  idea  of  His  willing- 
hood  to  welcome  them. 

2.  In  the  second  place,  let  anxious  sinners 
be  on  their  guard  against  judging  of  God's  attitude 
toward  them  from  that  which  is  assumed  by  some 
who  call  themselves  His  children.  They  may  be 
Pharisees,  and  not  true  sons.  Or  they  may  be 
really  children,  yet,  at  the  moment,  by  reason  of 
the  imperfection  still  adhering  t6  them,  they  may 
be  acting  an  unfilial  part.     In  any  case,  we  must 


THE   PRODIGAL  SON.  1G7 

not  allow  the  character  and  conduct  of  any  man, 
be  he  official  in  the  Church,  or  whatever  else,  to 
prejudice  us  against  God.  Men  may  repel  us, 
and  refuse  to  have  anything  whatever  to  do  v,iili 
us  ;  but  God  will  receive  us  graciously,  and  love 
us  freely.  The  respectable  Cliurch  members  in  this 
respectable  age  may  stand  aloof  from  us,  and  may 
make  us  feel  that  they  would  consider  them- 
selves to  be  degraded  by  any  fellowship  with  us  ; 
but  He  who  sat  and  talked  with  the  woman  of 
Samaria  at  the  well,  and  allowed  the  woman  that 
was  a  sinner  to  wash  His  feet  with  tears  and  wipe 
them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head,  will  in  nowise 
cast  us  out.  The  minister  of  the  gospel  may 
even  so  far  forget  his  character  and  privilege  as  to 
talk  to  us  with  hard  and  cold  severity  ;  yea,  ho 
may  treat  us  with  rudeness  or  with  positive 
injustice,  but  he  is  ouly  a  man  ;  he  may  be  even 
a  very  imperfect  man  ;  he  is  not  God  ;  and  let  us 
be  thankful  that  God  is  not  like  him.  There  is 
a  magnanimous  mercy,  an  exalted  generosity  ia 
God  which  we  look  for  in  vain,  in  the  same  degree 
at  least,  in  any  man.  And  whatever  may  be  the 
effect  upon  us  of  the  actions  of  our  fellow-mor- 
tals, we  must  not  allow  them  to  set  us  against  Je- 
hovah. He  is  always  on  the  out-look  for  returning 


168  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

sinners,  and  before  tliey  have  time  to  finish  their 
confession  unto  Him,  He  is  ah^eacly  falHng  in 
welcome  on  their  necks.  Do  not,  therefore,  mis- 
interpret Him  by  supposing  that  the  cold-hearted 
exclusiveness,  which  is  too  manifest  in  many 
who  profess  to  be  His  children,  is  in  any  respect 
characteristic  of  Him.  Eegard  Him  as  he  pre- 
sents Himself  to  you  in  His  word.  Bead  Him 
as  He  has  written  Himself  in  the  mission  and 
sacrifice  of  His  Son ;  and  whatever  else  may  be 
suggested  to  you  by  the  disposition  of  His  pro- 
fessed people,  rest  you  sure  of  this,  that  His  true 
character  has  been  portrayed  in  this  parable,  and 
that  Isaiah  has  not  misrepresented  Him  when  ho 
says,  "  Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the  un- 
righteous man  his  thoughts,  and  let  him  retui'n 
unto  the  Lord,  for  he  will  have  mercy  ujDon 
him,  and  unto  Our  God,  for  he  will  abundantly 
pardon." 

Finally,  let  us  learn  from  this  whole  chapter 
the  sincere,  earnest,  personal  interest  which  God 
has  in  the  salvation  of  sinners.  I  have  already 
indicated  that  in  each  of  these  parables  we  have 
set  before  us  a  part  at  least  of  the  work  of  each 
of  the  three  persons  of  the  Godhead  in  the 
redemption  of  man.    The  Son  becomes  incarnate, 


THE   PRODIGAL   SON.  169 

and  offers  Himself  a  sacrifice  for  sin ;  the  Spirit 
gives  the  truth,  and  secures  its  entrance  into  the 
soul  ;  and  the  Father  gladly  welcomes  the  wan- 
derer to  his  home  again.  We  may  surely  conclude, 
therefore,  that  everything  God  does  in  connection 
with  the  work  of  salvation,  is  in  the  sinner's 
interest,  and  with  a  view  to  secure  his  recovery. 
There  are  no  obstacles  to  man's  salvation  now  on 
God's  side.  If  there  be  obstacles  yet,  they  lie 
with  the  sinner.  Jehovah,  with  all  the  solemnity 
of  an  oath,  has  said,  "  As  I  live  I  have  no  pleas- 
ure in  the  death  of  the  wicked,  but  that  the  wick- 
ed turn  from  his  way  and  live ;"  and  even  more  for- 
cibly than  by  that  striking  asseveration  has  Jesus 
set  the  same  truth  before  us  in  this  matchless  chap- 
ter. I  answer,  therefore,  all  difficulties  which  the 
inquirer  may  feel  about  such  topics  as  election, 
and  the  special  agency  of  the  Spirit,  and  the 
sovereignty  of  God,  and  the  like,  by  bidding  him 
go  and  read  these  parables.  They  show  that  God 
is  in  earnest  in  seeking  to  save  lost  souls.  They 
prove,  therefore,  that  everything  about  him,  and 
done  by  Him,  is  in  the  interest  of  the  sinner's 
return.  His  electing  love,  the  enlightening  agen- 
cy of  His  Spirit,  His  sovereignty,  are  all  to  be 
interpreted  in  the  light  of  this  chapter,  and  are 


170  THE  LOST  FOUND. 

to  be  understood  as  all  designed  to  help,  and  not 
to  Idiider  tlie  sinner's  restoration.  They  are  not 
stumbling-blocks  placed  in  the  way  of  the  penitent, 
but  they  are  agencies  at  work  in  removing  ob- 
stacles from  his  path,  Se'e  to  it,  therefore,  that 
you  do  not  misunderstand  God.  Meet  every 
speculative  ditficulty  arising  from  the  doctrines  to 
which  I  have  referred,  with  this  chapter,  which 
has  always  been  regarded  as  one  of  "  the  crown 
jewels  "  of  the  Christian  Church.  Silence  every 
foreboding  about  the  reception  which  God  may 
give  you — with  these,  "'  the  first  three,"  of  the 
Redeemer's  parables.  Arise,  and  go  in  fullest 
confidence  to  thy  Father.  He  will  not  reject 
thee,  but  will  enfold  thee  in  His  forgiving  em- 
brace, and  will  say  over  thee,  in  infinite  tenderness 
and  with  Divine   delight — "  This    my    son   was 

DEAD,  AND  IS  ALIVE  AGAIN  ;  HE  WAS  LOST,  AND  IS 
FOUND." 


THE   END. 


DR.   HODGE'S  THEOLOGY. 


igsl^Finfif  ir  j^llFoIogg. 


BY    CHARLES     HODGE,    D.D.,    LL.D., 

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